


Lupus Luminosus

by Laora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming of Age, Gen, i'm still pretty proud of how this one turned out, old story cross-posted from FFN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-06
Updated: 2010-07-06
Packaged: 2020-12-16 16:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 88,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laora/pseuds/Laora
Summary: Remus never had the ideal life, but he wouldn't trade it for the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posted unedited and unbeta'd, because this is 90k words I don't have time to read.
> 
> I started writing this in high school, and overall I'm pretty proud of how I remembering it turning out!

Ian and Greta Lupin stood outside a closed hospital door. Five-year-old Greta grasped her father’s hand tightly. After finally being allowed into the ward, they saw Alexandra Lupin lying in the farthest bed, holding what looked like a bundle of robes. On closer inspection, it was a baby boy.

“He’s  _ beautiful _ ,” Ian breathed. Greta nodded her agreement, wide-eyed. “Have you decided on his name?”

“I was going to let you help decide.”

“I’d like something unusual, uncommon…”

“Remus!” Greta said immediately, grinning widely. Ian looked apologetically at his wife.

“I was reading her some of those books you’ve got on Roman myths; she seemed to like that one.”

“Remus was the one that was killed, honey, remember?” Alex said to her daughter patiently. “What about Romulus?”

“I want Remus!”

“Remus Lupin,” Ian said thoughtfully, “I like it. What do you want for his middle name?”

“If his first name is so uncommon, let’s give him a normal middle name so he isn’t completely harassed at school.”

“John?”

Ian smiled. “Perfect.”

* * *

Greta was very proud of her little brother. She showed him off to everyone who came by the house, and always introduced him as “Remmie.”

Her mother, being a Muggle, insisted that she attend a Muggle primary school before she go to Hogwarts. She had already proved herself a witch, and could not wait to turn eleven so she could go. 

Her few years at Muggle school just confirmed that she was ready to go—she had somehow made a teacher lose her voice when she had been droning meaninglessly on, and had often teleported to safety whenever any of the bullies picked on her. 

Many of the teachers sent home angry letters, but the Lupins were not too worried. Greta was just a natural troublemaker, and it seemed that Remus would be following in her footsteps.

As Greta progressed through primary school, Remus learned the basics from his parents at home. He was always an inquisitive child, wanting to know exactly how and why things were the way they were.

“Daddy, why is the grass green?” a three-year-old Remus asked his father while they were outside, talking about Quidditch. Ian sighed.

“Hon, you wouldn’t understand it if I tried to explain it. Maybe when you’re a bit older.”

Remus pouted for a moment; he received that answer quite often. “I’m older!” he said brightly after a few seconds. His father chucked.

“A few years older, Remus, not a few seconds.”

He pouted a few more seconds. “Has it been a few years yet?”

* * *

The small family was by no means rich, but they were comfortable and happy. Because Alex was a Muggle, they had things such as a television and microwave, but their father’s spellwork cut down on most of the chores around the house—except for cleaning bedrooms.

Both children’s rooms were impeccably filthy; if their mother told them to clean them, the next day they would be just as dirty as they were the day before. Remus seemed to get a bit better as he grew out of his toddler years, but Greta was the exact opposite. The year before she left for Hogwarts, her mother could not get across the floor without tripping over something.

“Greta!” she roared during the first day of summer vacation after primary school. “I’m not going to clean your room while you’re at school!”

“I don’t care!” she yelled back from where she was sitting on a garden bench with her brother, reading a book to him. For a six year old, he liked books quite a lot.

“You will when you get home for vacation and there’s all sorts of creatures in your room!”

Grumbling, Greta carefully put the bookmark in the book and got up. “You want to help me, Remus?”

“Nope.”

Grinning, she picked him up and stuck him on her shoulders. “Greta, I said no!” Remus squealed, pulling at her hair. She smiled and kept walking toward the house. After carefully traversing her room, only tripping over two things, she set Remus on top of her dresser. He giggled again. 

“GRETA!”

“What, dearest little brother?”

“Get me down!”

* * *

Mid-July brought Greta’s long-awaited Hogwarts letter. She was so excited about the prospect of going to a school with Albus Dumbledore under its roof—albeit as  _ Deputy  _ Headmaster—that it was all she could ever talk about. Remus was getting jealous.

“Greta, can you shut up about Hogwarts?” he snapped. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“You’ll be going in five years; what, can’t wait, can you?” With any luck Dumbledore will be Headmaster by the time you start. He’s the most powerful wizard in the world, right dad?”

“Mmhmm,” their father agreed, sipping some of his tea. “He beat Grindelwald a few decades back; if he hadn’t, Grindelwald would have taken over all of Europe.”

All four of the Lupins shivered. “So,” Alex said, trying to change the subject, “Where are we getting your school things, Greta?”

“Diagon Alley, of course!”

Her mother sighed. “Does that mean I have to use some of that green powder?”

“’Fraid so,” Greta said cheerfully. “Unless you don’t want to come…”

“No, I’m coming!”

Diagon Alley was always a wonder to Remus, who took every chance he got to go. He especially loved staring at the broomsticks. While Greta was choosing with her mother which owl to get, Remus was begging his father—

“Please, daddy? Just a toy one?”

“Remus, I don’t know…” he answered. “They seem kind of expensive.” He gestured at the price tag, reading “10 galleons.”

“ _ Please? _ ”

“Part of it’ll come out of your allowance,” he said after a moment of thought. “Is that all right with you?”

“Duh!”

Remus was practically floating as he walked out of the store, his new Silver Arrow Junior clutched tightly in his hand. His father led him to the bookstore, where they found the female Lupins.

“Mommy! Greta! Look!” Remus said happily, showing them his toy broom. “Look what Daddy bought me!”

Greta was all smiles for her little brother, saying that she was sure that he would be an excellent flier. She then showed him her new tawny owl, which she had christened “Hazelnut.” Remus loved her, and only stopped poking the poor bird when she nipped his finger in annoyance.

He then wandered off, looking for picture books to occupy his time while Greta and his parents looked for her schoolbooks. He finally found a book on unicorns, and was just about to sit down to read it when a tornado of black robes come hurtling into him, knocking him over. Remus blinked in surprise and looked up at the bundle of energy, and saw that it was a boy about his age. The boy grinned and offered Remus his hand.

“Sorry,” he apologized, though his eyes glinted with mischief behind his glasses. “I was trying—”

“James!” came a loud voice from behind a bookshelf. The boy winced. 

“Hide me!” he said desperately. Without further ado, he dove behind a baffled Remus, still clearly visible to all passers-by.

“Excuse me, have you seen—” a woman with red hair approached Remus, then stopped as she spotted the boy—presumably her son, James—crouched behind him.

“James Isaac!” she exploded, dragging him out from behind Remus. “Dear, I’m so sorry. Did he hurt you at all?”

“No, missus…” he realized that he did not know her surname.

“Potter,” she supplied kindly. “Do you have parents here? You’re too young to be here all by yourself!”

“My parents are here, and my big sister. They’re looking for her schoolbooks.”

“Oh, so she’s going to Hogwarts?” Mrs Potter nodded approvingly. “James is so excited about it even though he’s far—” but her son had just gasped in admiration.

“Is that a  _ broomstick _ ?”

“Yeah,” Remus said proudly, picking up his new toy broom and showing it to him. “It’s just a toy one, though.”

“ _ Mum! _ ” the boy turned to his mother, an exasperated look on his face. “He’s got one, why I can’t I have one too?”

“Because you want a real one. Those are a  _ lot  _ of money, and you wouldn’t be able to fly it for a few years anyway.”

Remus watched interestedly as the two Potters argued until he saw his father appear from around a bookshelf.

“Emily! How are you?” he hailed the red-haired woman, who turned around and smiled.

“Ian! I haven’t seen you around…did you get transferred to a different ward?”

“Yeah, they’ve been bumping me around the first floor for a while now. Creature attacks seem to be on the rise…” he trailed off. 

“So this is your son, Remus?” Emily Potter said, breaking the silence. “James knocked him over just then, I swear he gets hyper on absolutely nothing at all…” she shook her head. “And when he said ‘hello’ to the Blacks and tried to be polite for once, they just sniffed and walked away.”

Ian shook his head disapprovingly. “That family’s too proud for its own good.”

Meanwhile, Remus and James were having their own small conversation. “So, when do you get to go to Hogwarts?” James asked excitedly.

“In five years. I can’t wait! Greta’s going this year.”

“Is Greta your sister?” James asked. He nodded. “That’s a really cool name. She  _ is  _ lucky—I have to wait five years too.”

“Then we’ll be in the same year!” Remus exclaimed, his eyes widening in revelation. “That’s so cool!”

James’s grin was larger than Remus thought was possible. “That’s awesome!” They shared a high five, and before their parents yanked them away, James yelled, “See you in five years!”

Remus snorted, but waved good-bye all the same.

* * *

August 31 st was a very sad day for the Lupin family. Even though Ian had told Greta everything about Hogwarts—excluding the Sorting, which he said she would just have to learn for herself—she was still a nervous wreck.

“What if I don’t have any friends? What if I fail all my classes? What if I get into  _ Slytherin _ ?” she said the last with a small shudder.

“Greta, you’ll be fine,” he mother assured her. “I’m sure of it.” Not having gone through the school herself, however, she knew only what her husband had told her.

“No I won’t! I’m going to be a Squib!” Greta wailed.

“Greta, if you don’t shut up I’m going to steal Hazelnut,” Remus said, quite serious. She was so shocked that she stopped crying.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Yeah I would.”

* * *

The next morning brought a mixture of pride, sadness, and jealousy. Greta and her mother had to say their good-byes outside of Platform 9 ¾, as Muggles could not get onto the Hogwarts Express platform.

“Write the moment you get to your common room,” her father told her. “Tell us which house you’re in, how you like the castle, who your friends are…I’m sure Remus is dying to know everything about Hogwarts.” He winked at his son.

“I’ll write every week as long as you promise to write back,” Greta said tearfully, “I’m going to miss you all so much,” she picked Remus up and hugged him. “I’m going to be so lonely…”

“No you won’t!” Alex reassured her daughter. “You’ll be fine!”

“The only person you have to watch out for is Lucius Malfoy,” her father warned. “He’s in his second year now, and he can be a real pain in the—”

“Ian!”

“Er…right,” he watched a group go through the barrier with a look of intense dislike. “Bellatrix Black is starting this year as well, I forgot. She’s just as bad as the rest of them.”

With a few more tearful hugs and kisses, Greta walked with her father and brother through the portal to the Hogwarts Express. 

Remus gasped—he had never seen a place full of so many people. There had to be at least a few hundred students, all of who had their families and trunks along with them. Noticing that the clock read 10:55, Ian helped Greta load her trunk into a train compartment, and they talked with her through the open window until the train started moving.

Realizing that he would not see Greta for months, Remus began to cry and tried to run after the train and jump on; however, it was too fast. Remus felt a sense of aloneness as he watched the train turn around a bend—and it was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

The house seemed emptier without Greta and her wisecrack jokes, messy room, and morning arguments about waking up. There just seemed that there was a lot more space now that she was off at Hogwarts.

They received a foot-long letter from Greta, dated September 2, that described Hogwarts in great detail for the benefit of her mother and Remus. She said that the Sorting Hat had immediately ruled out Slytherin for her, and after some deliberation between the other three houses she was placed into Gryffindor. She had two friends already—Dorcas Meadowes and Amelia Bones—who were also in Gryffindor. She had also described how awesome all three classes she had taken so far—Transfiguration with McGonagall, Charms with Flitwick and Herbology with Sprout—were, and how she couldn’t wait for the rest of her classes. Dumbledore, apparently, was not teaching any classes but was the deputy Headmaster and amazing all the same, and Dippet was kind but rather senile.

By the time his father had finished reading the letter aloud, Remus was insanely jealous once again. He wanted to go to Hogwarts as well!

Each of the Lupins contributed to the reply, saying that there was nothing exciting happening at home except for Remus starting Muggle primary school.

He was very happy about being surrounded by children his own age, even if they were Muggles. He was a very talkative child and irritated the teachers to no end; they often sent letters home with him like with Greta, but again the Lupins were not too worried about their son.

* * *

Alex had an extensive family, and many of its members enjoyed dropping by at random intervals. This posed a problem for the Lupins, as they needed to be able to hide anything magical before they arrived.

On the second of October, they were actually expecting Alex’s sister, her husband, and two daughters to arrive; therefore, they had completely de-magicked the house the day before and instructed Remus on what he could and couldn’t say. It was mostly old news, as he had received the same briefing before primary school.

“I know, Mum!” he all but yelled. She scowled.

“Well, you may forget, and you have to remember that they don’t know anyth—”

The doorbell rang.

Ian ran to answer it and bring their guests in, but instead of a smiling family on the front doorstep, there stood what looked like a homeless man. The only thing that made Mr Lupin worry was the wand sticking subtlety out of his coat pocket. Instantly alert, Ian gripped his own as he said, “What is it?”

“I was just wondering if I could spend the night here, as it promises to be cold,” he said in a raspy voice.

“I’m sorry, we won’t have any room. We’ve got company coming later and we only have enough room for them. I could get you a blanket and a bag of food if you—”

“Ian Lupin, do you know who I am?”

Rather frightened but standing his ground, Ian signaled to his wife behind his back to go upstairs with Remus. Taking the hint, she went quickly toward the stairwell.

“No, sir, I do not,” he told the man calmly.

“Let’s just say that your recent…publication has irritated me,” he said. “My name is Greyback.” Immediately, Ian’s hand tightened around his wand. He had sent in an editorial to the Daily Prophet fighting against werewolves, and suggesting that at least the feral ones be put down…he had mentioned Greyback specifically… _ Oh shit… _

“You might want to hold onto your family with two hands, Lupin,” Greyback said nastily, “or you might just find them dog meat.” Ian slammed the door in his laughing face, his heart beating at least three times faster than normal.

After checking out the window to make sure that Greyback was really gone, he dashed into the kitchen where the family calendar was located. Glancing over the month of October—

##  Thursday, October 9

In his wife’s neat handwriting,

##  ** _Grocery shopping_ **

** _Suzannah leaves_ **

And, in the fine print put in by the publishers,

##  Full moon

“Alex!” Ian yelled, “You can come down now!”

His wife and son came down the stairs, both very white. “Daddy, who was that?” Remus shivered. “He was scary.”

“It was a very mean man,” Ian said as soothingly as he could. “I sent him on his way; hopefully he won’t bother us anymore.” He sent a meaningful glance at his wife that clearly said, “I’ll tell you later.”

Before anyone could reply, the doorbell rang once again, and Ian approached it cautiously, looking out the window before opening it.

“Hey, Ian!” Peter Martin said, shaking his hand. “How’re things going?”

“All right—we had some hobo at the door a bit ago, but nothing to worry about.”

Suzannah and Alex both began catching up, which left Remus with his cousins. Three-year-old Carlie was nice enough, but five-year-old Jenna was a totally different story. She tried to boss around absolutely everybody, and no amount of lecturing on her parents’ part could make her stop. In the company of his immediate family, Ian often called her the devil incarnate, and nobody argued with him.

“What is there to do?” Jenna asked snobbishly.

“Um…” Remus said, trying to remember the names of the Muggle games his mother kept around, “What do you like to play?”

“Hide and seek?” Carlie asked, blue eyes looking up at Remus in innocence.

“No, that’s a  _ baby  _ game,” Jenna sniffed. “Only _ babies  _ play that.”

“Well, can you think of anything else to do?” Remus shot back.

“Where’s Greta?” she asked, seemingly just realizing that she was not there.

“She’s at a private boarding school,” Remus recited, remembering what his mother had told him to say. “So, do you have any ideas?”

* * *

The rest of the visit went on similarly, and Remus was not sad to see Jenna go. While Alex was out grocery shopping, Ian sat Remus down in the kitchen and said, very seriously, “Remus, you  _ must  _ be inside before dark tonight.”

“Why?” Remus asked, confused.

“Because…well, you wouldn’t completely understand,” he said awkwardly. “But I don’t want you to get hurt. Just promise me that you’ll put your broom away and be inside before it gets dark.”

Remus nodded slowly, still not completely understanding what was going on. His father had never insisted that he be inside before dark before…as long as someone was with him it was okay.  _ Why is tonight any different? _

His mother was informed of this new rule when she returned home, and she nodded; apparently she comprehended the situation more than Remus. He still did not understand why he had to be inside, and desperately wanted an answer. Unfortunately, neither of his parents would tell him anything.

That night after dinner Remus asked permission to go flying on his broomstick for a bit. He was granted it, but again reminded of the new rule. Remus tried to refrain from rolling his eyes as he walked outside. It was a beautiful evening that promised a gorgeous sunset, and Remus was determined to watch it—either from outside or from his bedroom window. 

He retrieved his well-loved broom from the garden shed and began gliding around the backyard. He had been practicing every night—excluding the time they had company—and he thought he was pretty good at it.

Glancing back at his house and then at the slowly setting sun, Remus decided to go for a fly in the woods behind his house for a few minutes.  _ Hopefully Dad won’t notice… _

After a few minutes of flying contentedly through the trees, Remus prepared to go back to the house; he did not want to go totally against his father’s wishes. He saw that it was almost dark, and hurried to get out of the trees before the sun completely set.

A minute later, the darkness had completely come over the woods. Panicking slightly, Remus went on for another minute before something in front of him made him stop short and squeal in terror.

* * *

Ian glanced nervously out of the window at the now almost-invisible sun.  _ Where is Remus? _

He panicked when he saw that Remus was not in the yard. Cursing to himself, he told his wife that he was going to find Remus, grabbed his wand off the table, and ran out the door.

* * *

Remus’ pale blue eyes widened as he stared into a pair of yellow ones. He began backing away slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements.  _ What did Dad tell me about monsters in the forest? _

Not recalling his father explaining any horrendous creatures coming out at night, Remus was even more frightened.  _ What  _ is  _ that? _

To his horror, the eyes had been growing larger as he backed away. Abandoning all pretenses of no sudden movements, Remus turned around and flew away on his broom as fast as it could take him. Apparently it was not fast enough.

The monster pounced on the back end of his broom, catapulting him backwards. He landed on the hard ground, and it felt as if his leg was broken.

He watched helplessly as the creature came toward him. He was unable to do or say anything until it pounced.

* * *

A scream flew through the woods, sending birds flying and making Ian drastically quicken his pace.  _ NO! _

He ran in the direction of the scream, praying to whichever deity was up there that he was not too late…

* * *

Remus screamed as the monster sunk its teeth into his unbroken leg. This startled him into motion again, and out of instinct he tried to curl up into a ball. The creature continued to bite and scratch every inch of Remus it could reach.  _ Oh Merlin no I don’t want to die someone save me oh please I don’t want to be eaten please don’t eat me nonononononono that hurts stop it nononono go away please… _

Remus continued screaming out of pain, fear, and the hope that someone would come to save him.  _ I’m going to die… _

Suddenly the monster’s weight was thrown off of him, and a voice cut into his muddled thoughts— _ “Remus!” _

He vaguely recognized the voice as his father’s, and hoped that he had scared the monster away, before he passed out.

* * *

Running around a tree, Ian saw an enormous figure bending over a smaller one.  _ Oh my— _

His heart rate tripled as he saw a very familiar toy broomstick lying on the ground in two pieces a few feet away. He quickly sent a levitated log toward the larger figure, throwing it off Remus and causing it to run into the trees.

“ _ Remus!”  _ he said, horrified, as he ran toward the bloody mess on the ground. Without thinking, he stuck his wand between his teeth, picked up his son, and sprinted back to the house. Alex screamed as they came into view.

“Alex—use the Floo powder—go to St Mungo’s,” he told her around his wand, taking huge gulps of air as he slowed down slightly in the kitchen. Without waiting for a reply, he Flooed to the hospital, his son in his arms.

The secretary blanched as Ian stepped out of the fire with Remus, and immediately scribbled something on a piece of parchment, sending it flying up the stairs.

“Where do I go for a werewolf attack?” Ian asked her, out of breath.

“First floor,” she answered quickly.

He nodded his thanks to her and rushed up the stairs as his wife came out of the fireplace, running after him.

As Ian rushed onto the first floor, everyone stepped aside. Whether it was out of fear of his wild rampage, horror at the sight of the mess he was holding, or something else, he would never know.

“In here,” a Healer said, wide-eyed. Ian rushed through the door and the Healers immediately brought him to one of the beds. Both parents sat, crying in shocked silence. They were unable to see Remus because of the ten or so Healers around his bed.

“Can Greta come?” Alex asked after a few minutes. Ian jumped; he had not thought of that.

“Excuse me,” he said, walking up to an unoccupied Healer, “Can I Floo Hogwarts to get my daughter?”

“If Professor Dippet allows it.”

Ian practically ran downstairs to the fireplace and threw the Floo powder in the fire. Sticking his head into the now-green flames, he yelled, “Hogwarts!”

After the normal spinning and nausea, the Headmaster’s office came into focus. He was conversing with Dumbledore in an undertone.

“Professor Dippet!” he said loudly.

The old man spun around, his wand out, but lowered it a bit when he saw it was his head in the fire. “What is it?”

“It’s my son…he’s in St Mungo’s and it’s pretty bad…would you let my daughter out of school…?” Apparently he looked thoroughly hopeless, because Dippet’s expression softened.

“Where is she?”

“Greta Lupin, first year Gryffindor,” he glanced hopefully at Dumbledore.

“I will get her,” he said at once, and swept out of the room.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Dippet said, “what happened to your son?”

“Greyback happened.”

He winced in sympathy. “Will he make it?”

“I don’t know.”

* * *

Dumbledore swept across Hogwarts from the Headmaster’s office to the Gryffindor common room, intent on getting Miss Lupin. Her father had looked genuinely helpless, and he did not want to split up a family for longer than was necessary during a crisis.

He gave the Fat Lady the password, and climbed through the circular hole. The common room quieted quickly as the students saw him.

“I need Greta Lupin to come with me immediately,” he said briskly. A brown-haired girl slowly stood up.

“Why, sir?”

“You’re not in trouble,” he assured her.

She nodded slowly and followed him out of the common room. “What is it, Professor?” she asked him after a few moments of silence.

“Your father just Flooed to Professor Dippet’s office asking for you.”

“What’s wrong?” Greta asked, stopping in her tracks.

“He said that your brother is in the hospital.”

Greta turned as white as a sheet and sped up considerably. Dumbledore mirrored her.

* * *

Greta was sitting with Amelia and Dorcas when Professor Dumbledore crawled through the portrait hole.  _ What is he doing here? _

She was very surprised when he asked her to come with him.  _ What did I do?  _ Amelia squeezed her hand as she stood up and asked, “Why, sir?” hoping that she did not sound rude.

“You’re not in trouble,” he said, and Greta let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. She followed him out of the common room and down the corridor, having no idea where they were going.

“What is it, Professor?” she asked, unable to keep it in any longer. She couldn’t think of another reason for her Head of House to pull her out of her common room—on a Thursday night, no less!

“Your father just Flooed to Professor Dippet’s office asking for you.”

Greta paused.  _ What does Dad need me for?  _ “What’s wrong?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“He said that your brother is in the hospital.” Dumbledore answered her, looking rather apologetic. After waiting to see if he would elaborate and finding that he would not, Greta resumed walking, a bit faster than before. _ Remus is in the hospital—no way. He can’t be. But Dumbledore wouldn’t lie, would he…? _

They were soon standing in front of a stone gargoyle, which Dumbledore gave a sort of password to. It jumped aside and revealed a spiral staircase. Greta dashed up it.

In the large room she saw the Headmaster standing sorrowfully by the fireplace. Her father’s head was in the fire…

“Dad, what is it?” she asked, crossing the room in seconds.

“It’s Remus. You need to Floo to St Mungo’s,” he said. “I’ve already cleared it by the Headmaster; he said that you can stay as long as you need to.” He was talking as if there was nobody else in the room. Greta also saw that he had tearstains down his cheeks.  _ Dad never cries… _

“Do you want me to come through now?”

“Yes.” His head disappeared, and the Headmaster handed her the Floo powder.

“I’ll tell your teachers where you are,” he promised, and prompted her to go.

She spun out of the fireplace and into a hospital lobby she vaguely remembered from six years previously, when Remus was born.

_ Remus… _

Her father was nowhere in sight, and there were some drops of what looked like blood on the ground.  _ That can’t be Remus’… _

She walked up to the secretary and asked, “Can you tell me where Remus Lupin is?”

She flipped through a few papers on her desk, but stopped after a few seconds. “Only his immediate family is allowed to see him.”

Greta turned red with anger. “I’m his sister.”

“Can you prove that?”

She was at a loss for words. “Well…”

“She’s with me,” she heard her mother’s voice call out as she descended the stairs. 

The secretary looked her up and down. “You’re his mother?”

“Yes.”

“And you came in after your husband?” Alex nodded. “Yes, I remember you. Very well. If she is your daughter, you know where the ward is.”

The two walked to the staircase, and Greta’s mother led her up a flight of stairs before stepping into the hallway. She read a sign that said “Creature-Induced Injuries” and was confused even more.  _ What creatures live near our house? _

“Mum, what happened to Remus?” she asked urgently.

“I’m not entirely sure, hon,” she said, but Greta saw that her eyes were red as well.  _ She’s been crying too… _ “Your father will be able to explain it better than me.”

She was not satisfied with this answer, but immediately walked to her father when they entered a ward. He was staring blankly at a bed with about fifteen Healers around it.  _ Oh Merlin, that can’t be— _

“Dad?” she asked tentatively after he did not acknowledge her.

He looked up and seemed to be surprised by her presence. His eyes were much more red and puffy than his wife’s.

He stood up and embraced Greta in a huge hug, which she returned. It took her a moment to realize that she was supporting him, and she slowly sat him down and asked, “Dad, what happened to Remus?”

Her father took a moment to answer. “Greta, do you know who Fenrir Greyback is?”

She thought for a moment. “Didn’t you write an article that said something about him?”

He nodded, his head in his hands. Greta continued, “And that article was about werewolves, so Greyback is a werewolf…” she did not understand where the logic was going.

Her father pointed soundlessly out the window. Greta looked out, and saw an enormous full moon hanging in the sky.  _ Bloody— _

“Did Greyback attack Remus?” she asked, horrified and knowing the answer. He nodded silently, and her fears were confirmed. “Will he be okay?”

“I don’t know.”

* * *

Ian felt horrible as he said this a second time. He had decided as soon as he saw what had happened to Remus that it was his fault—he had failed as a father. If he had only gone outside with him, kept a closer eye on him to prevent him from leaving the yard, or forbidden him from going out all together, it would never have happened.

And, of course, it had been  _ he _ who had provoked Greyback into mauling his son…

He completely broke down at that point, tears falling by the gallon down his cheeks.  _ Because of me, my son might die. And even if he lives, he’ll have no future. _


	3. Chapter 3

Greta sat in silence in the hallway with her parents. The Healers had shooed them out, and they had been in too much shock and grief to argue.

She did not know how long the three eldest Lupins sat there, waiting for and at the same time fearing an answer from the other side of the ward door. At one point, a very tired-looking young woman walked out, and the three looked up at her expectantly.

“He’s got a good chance of living, but we’re not sure if the werewolf got to any more of the vital organs, so—”

“What do you mean, ‘any more’ of them?” Alex asked, alarmed. “What happened to him?”

“One of his lungs was punctured, but we’ve fixed that,” she assured them. “He’s obviously got some broken bones, but we haven’t found any other life-threatening wounds. He’s lost a  _ lot  _ of blood, though.”

“When can we see him?” Greta asked quickly.

“I expect not for another few hours at least,” she said regretfully, “but I’ll keep you updated on his condition.”

The Lupins nodded, and she retreated back into the ward. She came out every half-hour, basically telling them the same thing each time. Once she half-heartedly suggested that they try and at least get some coffee from the café on the fifth floor, but they would not hear of it. 

Finally, at about what Ian’s watch proclaimed to be three in the morning, the Healer walked out and told them that they were confident that he would survive.

“But, well…” she said awkwardly, “He’ll be a—”

“I know, I know,” Ian said, his head still in his hands.

“If you’d like, you can come in and see him,” she said, “He’s not conscious yet, but we’ve stopped a lot of the bleeding.”

The Lupins did not need telling twice. They rushed into the ward and over to the bed that held Remus.

Alex had to stifle a scream. There was more bandages than skin showing, and there was quite a lot of blood. There was also plenty on the bed beside him. They had apparently moved him to a cleaner bed as soon as they could.

The Healers silently provided chairs for the three Lupins, and they sat down without a word. 

Nobody got much sleep for a few days. Ian, Alex and Greta spent almost all of their time in the chairs, hardly saying a word to anyone and not eating much food.

On the second day after the attack, Remus stirred and groaned, and Greta screamed. Remus tried to turn his head, but his mother gently stopped him.

“Remus, honey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” It was difficult to tell if she was assuring herself or her son.

“Mum?” Remus said, “Greta?” He tried to turn his head again, but his mother again stopped him. “What’s wrong with my eyes? I can’t see!”

Ian immediately stood and walked to a Healer, speaking to him in an undertone. The Healer finally nodded, walked to Remus’ bed and removed the bandage covering his eyes. As Remus opened them, Greta screamed again.

Remus woke up and discovered that he was lying on a bed.  _ How’d I get here?  _ When he mentally shook off the shock and confusion of his location, he found that he felt like had he had when Greta had wrapped him in toilet paper; however, this toilet paper seemed to be stronger, and he could barely move.

Finding that he hurt quite a lot, he groaned helplessly. He did not know where he was, and he wanted to know!

A very familiar feminine scream came from his left, and he tried to turn his head to see why his sister was there.  _ She’s supposed to be at Hogwarts! _

He felt a hand keep him from looking at his sister. “Remus, honey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“Mum? Greta?” Remus asked, very confused. He again tried to turn his head, but found that the gentle hand was again stopping him. He tried to open his eyes, but found that he could not see. “What’s wrong with my eyes?” he asked, panicking. “I can’t see!”

He heard a pair of footsteps walking away, and then two pairs coming back. He felt a bandage being pulled off his face, and was glad to find that he could see again. Greta screamed for a second time.

“What is it?” he asked her, very confused.

“Your…your eyes…” she stammered, “They’re not blue anymore…”

His mother leaned in closer and gasped. “Ian, what does that mean?”

“It means that he’s a…a…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Remus didn’t know what was going on, and turned his head toward his father.

“Daddy, what was the monster that attacked me?”

“It was a…a werewolf, Remus,” his father answered, his voice cracking.

“What’s a werewolf?”

Ian sighed, not wanting to explain everything then to his son. He was saved by what looked like the Head Healer walking over to Remus’ bed. “You’re awake,” the very short man acknowledged Remus without any sort of emotion. Remus glared at him, immediately not liking the man. “If you please, I would like to speak to you  _ alone _ .” He gestured at Remus’ parents.

“If you’ve got anything to say to us, you can say it to all of us,” Alex snapped at him. The man sighed but, seeing that they were not moving, continued.

“Now, the first question to ask is if you are willing to continue raising your son,” he said, “If you either think you are not up to it, or do not wish to, we could either send him to a home with others of his kind or painlessly euthanize him. Out of your three options, the last would probably be the best…”

The Lupins stared at him for a moment, completely lost for words. Then Greta stood up, walked over to the man, and slapped him hard across the face.

“Do you really think we’re going to desert my little brother just because some oversized dog attacked him?” she spat.

“I was merely suggesting that you could prevent him from suffering extremely painful transformations once a month,” he answered, seeming slightly surprised that an eleven year old would hit him. It was starting to irritate Remus how he was talking about him as if he was not there.  _ And what is he saying about transformations? _

“We are  _ not  _ leaving Remus when he needs us the most,” Alex said angrily to the man. He scowled and turned to Ian.

“Is this your decision as well?”

Ian nodded, still too in shock to speak; however, he did raise up his head to glare briefly at the man through very red eyes. “Very well. I’ll send someone in to talk to you about the condition and precautions you must take for the full moon.”

The short man left, and the Lupins were left by themselves. Remus broke the silence by asking, “When can I get unwrapped?”

Alex smiled and patted him gently on the head. “That’s a question for the doctors, honey. We don’t know.”

A Healer walked in to check on Remus a while later, and the six year old’s first question was whether he could take the bandages off.

“Maybe tomorrow,” the Healer said. “A few of the wounds are still bleeding.” His smile seemed rather forced as he exited the room. Remus noticed this.

“Why is he mad at me?” he asked his parents in confusion. “What did I do?”

His parents shared a worried glance. “You didn’t do anything, Remus,” his mother said. “It’s just because you were attacked—”

“It’s not my fault the monster bit me!” Remus said indignantly.

“We know, Remus, but a lot of people don’t.”

“Why does it matter if it bit me? I’m okay, aren’t I?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Remus, you might want to wait for a Healer to come and explain everything to you,” Greta said carefully. Remus was even more confused.  _ What’s wrong? _

The next day, soon after another Healer had removed Remus’ bandages for good, a female Healer walked into the ward and over to Remus’ bed. “You aren’t mad at me, are you?” Remus asked her apprehensively.

“Why would I be mad at you?” she asked, pulling up a chair and sitting beside Greta.

“Everyone else is!” he declared, “I don’t get why everyone hates me! I’m okay, right?”

“Of course you are,” she assured him kindly, but then leaned across the bed to Alex and Ian. “You haven’t told him?”

“I don’t really understand everything myself,” Alex confessed, “And I don’t think Ian is quite over the shock yet.”

The Healer nodded understandingly. “Well, this’ll be new for you as well then.” She turned to Remus. “Let’s start properly, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m Healer King, but I want you to call me Becca.” Remus nodded.

“I’m Mr Lupin, but I want you to call me Remus.”

Becca laughed. “Sense of humor, eh?” she smiled at him. “Well, Remus, do you know what attacked you?”

“Daddy said it was a werewolf.”

“And do you know what a werewolf is?” He shook his head. “Well, it’s a normal person that has a sort of…curse put on him so that he has to turn into a wolf on every full moon.”

“Why don’t you fix the curse?” he asked her, wide-eyed.

Becca smiled sadly. “Nobody has found a cure yet. Now, when a werewolf transforms, he loses control over everything his body does. He can’t stop himself from attacking people.”

“So is that why it bit me?” he asked her. “It wasn’t his fault then?” He did not want to make whoever had attacked him feel bad if he had no control!

Becca glanced up at Remus’ parents, apparently waiting for them to help her. Ian nodded slowly. “That’s right,” she said at last. “The werewolf that attacked you was not entirely to blame.” Remus seemed to accept this, so she moved on to the part that she most dreaded about young werewolf victims.

“Do you know how people become werewolves, Remus?” she asked quietly.

“You said on the full—“

“I mean, do you know how they become one in the first place? What makes them have to transform?” Remus shook his head.  _ Why are we talking about werewolves anyway? _

“Remus…” she began, her voice cracking, “The only way someone can become a werewolf is if they are bitten by one during a full moon.”

The room was silent as the six year old tried to process the news.  _ A werewolf bit me…there was a full moon… _ His now-amber eyes widened. “Does that mean  _ I’m  _ a werewolf now?”

Becca nodded, tears in her eyes. She had become rather fond of Remus Lupin in the short time she had known him.

Remus burst into tears. “I don’t wanna be a monster! I wanna be a boy!” he wailed. Becca quietly left the ward and waited in the hallway.

“Mummy, why do I have to be a monster?” he asked her tearfully. She hugged him closely.

“You’re not a monster, honey,” she assured him. “It sounds to me like you’ll turn into a wolf on the full moon, but the rest of the time you’ll be a normal boy.”

This did nothing to stop Remus’ tears, and he continued to cry for quite a while. “Do you hate me too?” he asked his family, “Will you send me away?”

“Of course not, Remus,” Ian answered him. He had finally gotten over enough shock to speak again. “We’ll love you, no matter what!”

“Even if I turn into a big wolf that wants to bite your head off?”

He smiled. “Even then.”

After everyone had finally calmed down and Remus had fallen asleep, Greta called Becca back in. it looked as if she had been crying as well.

“Do you have a cellar or something similar on your property?” she asked, “That would be the best place for him to transform so he won’t be able to get out and attack anyone.”

“We’ve got an unfinished basement that’s pretty big.”

“That’ll work,” Becca nodded, “Make sure he’s in there and that you’ve securely locked the door before the sun sets. We’ll keep him here for a month so that he can spend his first transformation here. That way it won’t come as  _ quite _ of a shock to you.”

“What if the moon is out before the sun sets?”

“He won’t transform, but he’ll be pretty much non-responsive. He will only be dangerous when the sun is not out, but I would suggest not bringing him into contact with more people than necessary. The more active he is before the moon rises, the more out of it he will be when it does.

“Now, I have to warn you—he is  _ not  _ going to look pretty after a full moon,” she continued, “A werewolf, when transformed, is desperate for blood. He  _ will _ attack himself. If his wounds are beyond your healing abilities, bring him here, and we’ll fix him up.”

Alex’s eyes were huge. “How bad will he be?”

“At least as bad as he was on Thursday, but possibly worse,” she answered, lowering her gaze to the floor. “And, before you ask, nobody can be with him while he is transformed. He can’t tell the difference between food and family, and he  _ will  _ attack you. I don’t think he’d be able to live with himself if he hurt any of you.”

The Lupins nodded regretfully. “All right. Here’s a list of the charms you should use on the basement door.” She handed Ian a list of about ten spells. Scanning over it, he looked startled. “Why did you put the Silencing Charm on here?”

“Because if you don’t, the noise will be so loud that it will be able to be heard a block away,” Becca answered. “And another thing—you might want to take anything you want to keep out of your basement, because he’ll completely destroy anything down there.” They nodded.

“Let’s see…I’ll get you some potions that will quicken his healing process. I don’t think refills are too much money, and this first batch should last him around a year’s worth of transformations.”

As she was gathering the things across the ward, Remus stirred on his bed and opened his eyes.

“Where’s Becca?” he asked immediately. His mother pointed across the room, where she was putting the lid on a medium-sized box and walking back to his bed. “What are those for?” he asked interestedly.

“Remus,” she said seriously, giving the box to Ian and sitting down again, “You’re going to hurt yourself when you transform on the full moons.”

Remus’ eyes were as big as galleons. “Why?”

“Because while you’re a werewolf, you won’t have any control over your actions, and werewolves need blood. Since you won’t be able to attack your parents at all, you’re going to attack yourself instead.”

“How will I not attack Mummy or Daddy?”

“You’re going to be locked in the basement with charms on the door to keep you from escaping.”

Remus took this news rather well. “I don’t want to make anyone else a w-werewolf.”

Becca smiled. “That’s very mature of you. Many older wizards who are bitten by werewolves become very mean and try to bite others to let go of their anger.”

He looked completely bewildered. “Why would someone be that mean?”

Becca shook her head. “I don’t know. But because of those mean werewolves, most of the wizarding community hates all of them.” Remus’ eyes teared up again.

“So everyone hates me now? I didn’t do anything to them!” he yelled at nobody in particular. “Remus, honey, calm down,” Alex said, squeezing his hand. “Nobody will know you’re a werewolf unless you tell them.”

“Erm…this probably isn’t the best time to tell you this, but…” Becca faltered, “you probably will not be able to go to Hogwarts.”

This was too much for Remus. He started yelling incoherently, and various things in the ward began exploding around him. His family and Becca all dove for cover until it eventually stopped and the only sound was Remus’ ragged breathing.

“I thought y-you said P-p-professor Dippet w-was nice,” he sobbed angrily to Greta. She looked uncomfortable.

“Well, he is,” she began. “But maybe it’s not him—maybe it’s the school board.”

“But I c-can’t go to school j-just because of an accident?” Remus wailed. “How w-would they like it?”

“But that’s just it, Remus,” Ian interjected. “They don’t know what it’s like to be hated by everyone. Most people who would hate you don’t. That’s why they do—because you’re different.”

“Well, th-that’s stupid—”

“Yes it is, but there’s nothing we can do about it,” Becca said wearily. “I’ve been trying to get a movement going, but there hasn’t been much support…”

“Why are you so supportive of werewolf rights?” Ian asked curiously. Becca’s eyes lowered to the floor.

“My best friend was bitten by a werewolf the summer before our third year, and then killed a month and a half later by an anti-werewolf group.”

Remus’ eyes were again enormous. “She  _ died _ ?”

“Yes,” Becca said, tears falling down her cheeks. Remus sat up and hugged her. There was silence in the ward for a minute as Becca tried to pull herself together. 

“As you may have noticed, Remus,” she finally began, “Werewolves always have slightly heightened senses. That means that your five senses will be better than everyone else’s.” Remus nodded. “And they’ll be even better around the full moon. I’ve heard that it can get quite annoying at times.” The five of them chuckled weakly.

“And…I think there’s just one more thing,” she said, “Under no circumstances should Remus come into contact with silver in any form.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “I thought that was just a myth…”

“No, it could seriously damage him,” she said. “Any physical, direct contact will burn him, and if it’s injected into his body he will die.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “That’s how Lindsey died—someone spiked her Butterbeer.”

“Just…take care of yourself, okay? Promise me, Remus,” she grasped his small hand in hers, “People are going to hate you for something that’s not your fault, but don’t let that stop you. People don’t need to know about your condition. Remember—the people who mind don’t matter, and the people who matter don’t mind.”

Remus nodded, slightly taken aback by her outburst of emotion. “I promise.”

“Good. Take care of yourself, Remus!” And with one last watery smile, she stood up and exited the ward.

The Lupins were silent for a minute. “Remus…” Ian began.

“Daddy, why do some people have bad lives and some people have good lives?” Remus asked, looking up at his father seriously.

“I can’t answer that,” he said truthfully. “Some people just have a bad lot in life, and they have to learn to live with it.”

“Some people like Becca and me?” Ian nodded.

“Yes, like you and poor Becca.”


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Remus was moved to the public ward, where he was the only resident; therefore, he was usually left alone with his thoughts. Greta had reluctantly gone back to Hogwarts, and Remus’ parents visited for an hour or two every day. Remus hung onto those hours, which provided the only reprieve from his thoughts and nightmares.

Two and a half weeks after the attack, two boys, both a little older than him, were also moved into Remus’ ward. They introduced themselves as Jeff and Shawn Keen, and said that they had each gotten a rather nasty snake bite. Remus also introduced himself, and said that a dog had attacked him. He took Becca’s words to heart and did not elaborate to say  _ what kind  _ of dog.

It turned out that the two boys were from America, and were visiting their aunt, uncle and cousin. Remus found their accent rather odd—he had never heard anyone talk quite like that before—but enjoyed their company all the same. When the Keens came to the hospital, he also found that he liked their younger cousin, Alena, and the adults hit it off well.

* * *

The boys were disappointed that they had to stay in the hospital over Halloween, but brightened up when both sets of parents brought candy for them. Greta sent Remus a long letter describing the Halloween feast.

“Your sister goes to  _ Hogwarts _ ?” Jeff asked, wide-eyed. “That’s famous, even in  _ America _ ! When do you get to go?”

Remus’ heart skipped a beat.  _ I can’t tell them…  _ “Probably in five years,” he said finally. They seemed to accept that, and Shawn continued—

“Man, sometimes I wish I lived here instead of in the U.S. …your accent—”  _ My accent?  _ “—is so cool, and plus  _ Hogwarts  _ and  _ Dumbledore _ are here! He’s the most powerful wizard in the  _ world _ !”

Remus nodded, not saying anything. He wanted to tell them, just to see if Becca was right, but he didn’t want to run the risk of losing the only friends he had in the world.

* * *

During the week or so before the full moon, Remus had a constant headache. When he told his parents this, his father told him—out of earshot of the other occupants of the ward—that it was a side effect of the transformation. Remus had to resign himself to the fact that he would suffer a migraine every month for the rest of his life.

“It isn’t fair!” he roared to the world, waking up Jeff and Shawn and asking the former to say blearily,

“What’s not fair, Remus?” 

“…Nothing.”

* * *

In the two or three days leading up to his transformation, Remus always seemed to be in a bad mood. Sometimes it seemed as if it wasn’t him talking at all.

“Just shut up!” he snapped at Jeff and Shawn as they talked across the ward. “Can you get any louder?” They stared at him—they had not been talking too loudly at all.

“Geez, what’s with you?” Shawn asked incredulously. Remus glared and fell back onto his pillow.

“You’re so  _ loud _ ; just shut your fat mouth!”

The two boys raised their eyebrows at each other and glanced at Mrs Lupin, who had remained silent. She shook her head. “He’s not feeling well,” she mouthed. Their eyebrows were in danger of disappearing under their bangs, but they quit their conversation and went to sleep.

* * *

November sixth finally came, and Remus felt sicker than before. “Am I supposed to feel like I’m going to barf all the time?” he snapped at a Healer.

“The first transformation’s symptoms are always the worst,” he told Remus patiently. “The ones after shouldn’t be as bad.”

Remus waded through the first half of the day all right; however, in the afternoon, he did not respond much to anyone. The only thing he remembered later was the moon on the blue sky outside the ward window.

Finally, someone led him gently out of the room and down two flights of stairs. Remus was too out of it to realize that he was going into the hospital’s basement.

“We’ll be back for you in the morning,” a voice said gently, and closed the door.

He was sitting there grumpily for only a few minutes before he felt a very odd sensation come over him, He grew perfectly still for a moment before it happened.

Remus screamed as he felt a hot prickling sensation over his entire body. He managed to lift his hand up to eye level, only to find that it was covered in brown fur.

The rest of the transformation only got worse. It felt as if his entire body was breaking as his skeleton began to change into that of a wolf’s. Remus screamed as if his life depended on it—

_ Oh Merlin I’m going to die nonononono make it stop please make it stop nononono I don’t like this I don’t want to be a werewolf please I don’t want to die— _

“Mum!” he managed to scream out before his throat had completely blocked human speech. He retched as he felt his organs moving around inside of him…his ripped clothing lay long forgotten on the floor…

Finally, after what seemed like a millennium, it was over. Remus had only a split-second of conscious thought before he blacked out, and the wolf howled to the moon.

* * *

“Where do you think they took Remus?” Shawn asked Jeff some time after he had left. The eight-year-old shrugged.

“We’ll just have to ask him when he comes back.”

* * *

“ _ Greta _ !”

This was the first thing she heard on her return to the Gryffindor common room. Then she saw quite a lot of blonde hair as Amelia trapped her in a bone-crushing hug.

“We didn’t know where you were or if you were all right or if you had been hurt or  _ expelled _ and Dumbledore wouldn’t tell us anything so we were so worried—”

Greta chucked weakly. She didn’t think she’d ever be totally happy again after what had happened to Remus…”My brother was in the hospital, and Dad Flooed Dippet asking for me to come.”

“What happened to him?” Amelia asked curiously. Greta’s stomach dropped, and Dorcas interpreted her hesitation correctly.

“You don’t have to tell us,” she said quickly, “but is he okay?”

“As okay as he can be.”

* * *

The rest of October came and went. Greta checked her calendar on November sixth, and with a start realized that there was a full moon that night.  _ Remus! _

After classes were over, Greta immediately walked to her dormitory, saying that she was not hungry. She simply sat and stared out the window for who knows how long, but she was so entranced by the moon outside that she didn’t notice her friends as they walked in.

“Greta?” Amelia asked cautiously. She jumped and turned around.

“What?” 

“Why are you sitting there just staring out the window?”

She shook her head and crawled into bed, though it was barely eight o’clock. Amelia and Dorcas shared a glance, but said nothing more to their friend.

* * *

Alex’s heart broke as Becca led Remus out of the ward. He did not seem to recognize her, and had only vaguely acknowledged his own parents. The Healers were allowing them to stay the night at the hospital, for which they were very grateful.

Becca came back into the ward, her face streaked with tears. “It should be starting soon.”

That was the first of many long, sleepless nights that the three elder Lupins would endure. Finally, Ian said, “Surely the moon is down by now…can’t you go get him?”

Becca shook her head sadly. “He won’t be safe until the sun is up, even if the moon is down.”

Finally, when the sun began rising over the horizon, Becca stood up and walked out of the ward. Ian and Alex followed her. They walked down into a cellar of sorts with a few locked doors on each wall.

“This is where we keep new werewolves on the full moon,” Becca explained. She walked to the farthest door on the right, muttered some charms that unlocked the door, and finally walked inside. The Lupins followed her.

Both Alex and Ian screamed—Remus lay out cold on the floor, a bloody mess. Some shreds of fabric that might have once been his clothes lay scattered all around the ground, and the padded walls were stained with what could only have been blood.

“Will it always be this bad?”

“The first one is always the worst, but he’ll still beat himself up pretty badly,” Becca said regretfully. She conjured up a stretcher, carefully levitated Remus onto it, and conjured a large sheet on top of him. It was immediately stained red with blood. The three of them began the walk up to the immediate care unit.

There was only one other occupied bed, which was also blood-stained. Another Healer came up to Becca and muttered something to her. Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

“Another werewolf victim,” she said sorrowfully, gesturing with her free hand to the bed in the corner. “Apparently he’s lucky to be alive as well.”

She then carefully set Remus in the bed across from the unconscious man, and five or six Healers bustled over and began healing Remus’ wounds.

“If he survives his first, he will  _ probably  _ not kill himself while transformed, but if he is under a lot of stress, the transformation will be worse.” Becca explained to Ian and Alex. They nodded. “Now all we can do is wait.”

And wait they did. They were again forced out of the ward in order for the Healers to do their job, but they did not say a word in protest. When they were finally allowed back in, Remus looked as he had the day after he had been brought to the hospital.

“He’ll live,” one of the other Healers assured them, “but we need to run some tests to make sure there’s nothing else.”

“Can I have parchment and a quill?” Ian asked him. The Healer looked startled at the odd request, but gave him some all the same.

_ Greta — _

_ Remus will survive. The Healers say that the others will not be as bad as the first, but we’re not sure what ‘not as bad’ means, as he looks worse than he did in October. _

_ Hugs and kisses, _

_ Mum and Dad _

Ian folded and sealed the parchment, writing “Do not read in Great Hall” on it, and asked the Healer where he might find an owl. He gave him directions, and Ian ran off. Alex, left alone with her son, began stroking his hair.

“ _ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey…” _

* * *

Greta was a nervous wreck. She did not know if her brother had survived the night, and she had not yet heard from anyone. 

_ No news is better than bad news, I suppose. _

When she received the letter on November eighth, she observed her father’s wishes and ran up to her dormitory after class to read it.

She was relieved to know that Remus had survived, but was frightened about what he must have done to himself if he looked worse than the month before. She sent a letter back, requesting Remus to write to her personally and tell her that he would be all right. A little less than a week later, she received his reply in large block writing that Greta knew nobody could forge—

_ Greta _

_ im ok but I hert evriwar Mum sed that i hert miself on the ful moon but im not bleding ane mor _

_ I luv yu _

_ Remus _

Greta laughed, both in relief that Remus was indeed functional again and at her brother’s atrocious spelling. Her friends noticed a change in her attitude after she received the letter, and commented on it; however, Greta would tell them nothing except that her brother had gotten better.

* * *

Remus woke up, and found that his entire body hurt immensely. “Mummy…”

“I’m right here,” her voice came from his left.

“Where am I?”

“Back in the immediate care ward,” his father answered. “You beat yourself up pretty bad the other night.”

“It hurt a lot…Mummy, why does it have to hurt?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, eyes filling with tears. “I doubt that anyone knows, really.”

The Lupins fell silent until Remus noticed the other occupied bed. “What happened to him?”

“The same thing as you,” Ian answered, shaking his head. “Apparently he was trying to stop a werewolf and instead it bit him.”

Remus was quiet again. “Will he be okay?”

“He’ll be in the same situation as you,” his mother answered sadly. “He’ll be a werewolf as well.”

Remus’ eyes were as wide as Galleons. “Hopefully, sometime soon, someone will find a cure for lycanthropy,” Ian said wistfully.

“When do you think that’ll happen?”

“I don’t know.”


	5. Chapter 5

The following day, the man across the ward woke up and was very confused. “Where am I?” he asked Alex, the only awake person at the time.

“You’re in St. Mungo’s.”

“Sh—”

“Please, sir!” she said sharply. “My son is right here!”

“Er…right…sorry. What happened to him?”

“Same as you.”

“And how old did you say he was?”

“He’s six.”

The man’s eyes widened. “My deepest condolences,” he said genuinely. “To be bitten at such a young age is possibly the worst thing that can happen to anyone.” He reached up to brush his hair out of his face, but winced horribly. “Is it supposed to hurt this badly?”

“That’s what Remus said.”

“So he was bitten—”

“Last month.”

“And he still hasn’t woken up yet?” he eyed Remus warily.

“Oh, he woke up yesterday,” she assured the man. “But he still hurt himself pretty badly the other night.”

“So I’ll do that too?”

Alex nodded sadly. The man’s eyes looked terrified, but he held his composure surprisingly well. “What do I have to do to prepare?”

“A Healer came in and explained everything to us; you’ll spend the first month here. Then I suppose you’re on your own.”

Before he could reply, Remus woke up. “Hi!” he said cheerily to the man, even though nearly his entire body was covered in bandages. He winced as he raised his hand to wave across the ward. “What’s your name?”

He couldn’t help but smile. “I’m Jacob Streeter.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr Streeter!”

The three of them carried on a conversation until Becca again walked into the ward, a solemn look on her face. Remus hailed her happily—

“Hi Becca!”

She smiled weakly. “Are you feeling any better?”

“My head hurts.”

“Well, that’s going to happen. It’ll eventually go away.”

She pulled up a chair beside Mr Streeter’s bed and introduced herself. He seemed to be steeling himself for what he knew was coming, and didn’t reply.

After Becca left, Mr Streeter seemed to be in a state of shock. He laid flat on his back until another Healer came in. It was the short Healer that had suggested that they “put down” Remus, and Remus glared at him the entire time that he was in the ward.

He basically told Mr Streeter that he would be put into the public ward after his wounds had, for the most part, stopped bleeding. Mr Streeter nodded curtly and waited for the man to leave before losing his composure. Finally he croaked to the Lupins, 

“What am I going to do?”

* * *

The next day, both Remus and Mr Streeter were moved to the public ward. Remus refused to tell Jeff and Shawn where he had been for nearly a week, which intrigued them even more.

“C’mon, Remus, it can’t be  _ that _ bad!” Jeff prompted him, but Remus was firm.

“You don’t need to know.”

“But we want to!” Shawn argued.

“But I don’t want to tell you!” Remus snapped harshly. They looked surprised at his tone of voice but finally dropped the subject.

* * *

“Why do you think Remus won’t tell us where he went?” Jeff asked his brother that night after Remus had fallen asleep.

“I dun—” He was cut off by mutterings from across the ward. “Remus?”

The two of them crawled out of bed—they were almost completely well, and the Healers said that they would be leaving in a matter of days—and crossed over to Remus’ bed to hear what he was saying.

“No…don’t want…please don’t eat me…go away…don’t want to be…werewolf…”

Disbelieving, Jeff turned to his brother, and saw that his eyes were as wide as his.

“Holy crap.”

* * *

Remus woke up the next morning to find two sets of eyes glaring at him. “What’s wrong?”

Jeff’s eyebrows rose a few inches. “What’s wrong?  _ What’s wrong _ ?” he roared, “You’ve been lying to us! You pretend that you’re normal, but you’re not! You’re a  _ monster _ !” Remus’ eyes widened as he realized what they were saying.

“But—”

“Don’t speak to me! You’re filth!” Shawn yelled. “You pretended to be our friend! You lied to us! I’ll bet you were planning to kill us next full moon!”

Remus was crying at this point. “No I—”

“I told you not to speak to us, dirt!” he roared. Remus began to cry harder. “That’s right, cry like the weak piece of trash you are, you animal—”

“Just shut up!” Remus finally yelled.

“NO! You’re a  _ werewolf _ ! You don’t deserve to be a part of society! You deserve to be  _ dead _ !”

Remus had heard enough. He fled the room, running down the hall as quickly as his legs could carry him. Jeff’s voice followed him—

“That’s right! Run away, werewolf!”

As people heard what he was yelling, nearly everyone in the hallway suddenly seemed to have seen him in a different light. A couple of people even tried to tackle him, but he kept running until he reached the lobby.

He ran to the fireplace, but he couldn’t reach the Floo powder. In desperation, he ran up to the secretary, who looked down at him apprehensively. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Everyone hates me! They want me to die! I just want to go home!” he wailed to her. She hesitated.

“Well, your parents will have to check you out first—”

“You don’t get it! They want to kill me!”

“Your parents want to kill you?” she asked in astonishment.

“No, everyone upstairs…they called me a monster and they want me to die…”

“I’m sure that’s not true, dear,” she said kindly, coming out from behind her desk and setting him on top of it. “Now, when your parents come we can work it out and move you to another ward, okay?”

But Remus screamed and pointed at the stairs, where about thirty people were thundering down angrily, running straight for them.

“Oh my God—”

She picked Remus up off her desk and Apparated to the first place she could think of—her own house. Remus was crying into her shoulder.

She sat him down on the couch and got him a glass of water. “Now, can you tell me what your name is?”

“R-r-remus L-lupin,” he spluttered out.

“Why did all those people want to hurt you?”

“B-because they hate me!”

“Well, why do they hate you?” she asked patiently.

“B-because I’m a w-werewolf…”

Her eyes widened. She had heard of the boy brought in last month from her night-shift partner, but she had not known that he survived. 

“You don’t hate me, do you?” he asked her tearfully. She nearly laughed, but stopped because of the very serious look on his face.

“Of course not, Remus,” she assured him. “Now, my name is Maddy Attkon, okay? I’m going to Floo your house and tell your parents that you’re coming home early. Do you know your address? Where you live?”

He nodded. “14 Syc—syca—”

“Sycamore?” Maddy supplied. Remus nodded.

“In Surrey.”

She nodded and walked to the relatively small fireplace on the other side of the living room. Trusting that Remus had seen this before, she threw the powder and stuck her head in. Judging by Remus’ silence, he was not surprised.

After calling out the Lupins’ address, she found herself looking at a rather small but tidy kitchen. It seemed that Mr and Mrs Lupin were deep in discussion.

“Oh my goodness!” Mrs Lupin said in alarm. Ian swiftly drew his wand and pointed it at Maddy’s face.

“Who are you?”

“Maddy Attkon, the secretary at St Mungo’s. There was a bit of a riot at the hospital, so I brought Remus to my house to keep him safe—”

“What started the riot?”

“Somehow word got out that your son is a werewolf. When people started rampaging down the stairs I Apparated him away. He’s in my sitting room right now.”

“Is he all right?” Alex asked fearfully.

“Physically, he’s fine, but he’s a bit shaken up.”

“Can you come through with him?”

“Sure.” She pulled her head out of the fire and walked back over to Remus, who had finished his water and was watching her with wide eyes. “Your parents want us to Floo to your house. You know how to do that, right?” He nodded. “Okay; you can go first, and I’ll come after you.”

Remus nodded again, carefully set the empty cup down on the rug, and disappeared in a flash of green flames. Hoping that he got there safely, Maddy followed him.

When she stepped out of the fireplace, she witnessed the tearful reunion of Remus and his parents. “—And then Jeff said that he wanted me to die and I ran away and people started chasing me but I got down to Maddy first but then everyone caught up and then she took me away and saved me…” He saw Maddy at that point. “Thank you thank you thank you!” he squeaked, still crying as he ran to her and gave her a big hug.

“I couldn’t have done anything else,” she said, a bit abashed. “I wouldn’t have let them get anywhere near you.”

“Well you were the only one that was nice except Becca, everyone else hates me…”

“Seriously?” Maddy asked in amazement, looking up at Remus’ parents. “All of the Healers are prejudiced?”

“That’s what it seemed like,” Ian nodded.

She felt like exploding right then and there, but restrained herself. “Well, I think I’m going to go back to the hospital and see if everything has been sorted out yet.”

Alex’s head snapped up. “No, you can’t go! They’ll kill you!”

“And you saved Remus’ life!” Ian said indignantly. “We have to repay you somehow. Let us at least have you over for dinner or  _ something _ …”

Maddy shook her head. “I wasn’t doing anything anyone else wouldn’t do.”

“But you still saved him! We have to repay you  _ somehow _ !”

“Maybe later,” she conceded, “but right now I need to go back to the hospital.”

The Lupins finally agreed, telling her to come back as soon as she was done. She promised to, and Apparated away with a  _ crack. _

The hospital lobby was total chaos. The thirty people seemed to have multiplied to at least one hundred, all milling around angrily. It seemed that the media had arrived as well, because a young woman ran up to her, eyes gleaming and quill in hand.

“Would you be willing to tell the Daily Prophet about your version of the catastrophe?”

“Uh…”

“Great! Let’s get out of this crowded lobby first; then we can talk.”

Before she could protest, Maddy had been dragged onto the first floor and into a ward containing two boys and two unkempt beds. It looked as if they had been deserted in a hurry.

“This was the ward the werewolf was in, correct?” she asked the elder boy. He nodded, scowling.

“That filthy, mangy piece of crap…!”

“That’s quite enough!” Maddy said in astonishment. “There is no reason for you to talk about him like that!” The boy scowled at her.

“He lied to us, he pretended to be human—”

“And who was in the other bed?” the journalist asked the boy, interrupting his rant.

“Some guy. I dunno what happened to him though. He left real quick after the monster did.”

“Let me preface this interview by saying that I—and the innocent  _ boy _ —” Maddy said to her, emphasizing the last word, “—wish him to stay anonymous. There is no reason for a six year old’s name to be plastered all over the front page of the newspaper.”

“Of course,” the journalist smiled. “The Daily Prophet respects everyone’s privacy, regardless of who—or what—they are.” Maddy opened her mouth to retort, but the journalist had already poised her quill on the parchment and asked her first question—

“What is your name?”

* * *

Maddy left that ward very disgruntled. The journalist seemed to be very biased against Remus despite the fact that she had never met him.

Going back to the lobby, she saw white-robed Aurors attempting to disperse the crowd.  _ Why did they send in  _ Aurors?

“That monster deserves to die! Let me at ‘im!” a man yelled loudly. Maddy was shocked to see that he was a Healer.

“The boy is not here,” a very rugged Auror said impatiently, as if they had been over it many times.

In the blink of an eye, the Healer had drawn his wand to curse the Auror. In a blink and a half, the Auror had pulled out his and stunned the offender. The lobby was full of eerie silence.

Not wanting to hear or see any more, Maddy made up her mind then and there and walked to another door in the lobby leading to the administrative part of the hospital.

* * *

“What do you mean, you quit?” her boss asked angrily, slamming his fist on his desk. “You can’t—”

“Yes I can,” Maddy said calmly. “After the prejudice against an innocent boy displayed by most of your employees, you have the right to be ashamed of yourself.”

“That was  _ not _ an innocent boy! That was a werewolf, a danger to society! You should have let him  _ die _ !”

“So you’re prejudiced too, then?” Maddy snapped. She walked to the wall calendar and found November sixth. “This was the date of the full moon this month,” she said, pointing to it. “This,” she pointed to November thirteenth, “is today’s date. Does your brain process the idea that there is currently no full moon?”

“Werewolves are always evil! Their brains are corrupted—”

“Have you ever talked to one? The boy in question seemed pretty lucid to me.”

“They can pretend to be human! They—”

“I thought the basic understanding of werewolves was that they are a lower life form? If they were, would they be able to pretend that well? You’re contradicting yourself.”

Her boss opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally saying, “You’re fired.”

Maddy laughed. “You can’t fire me, remember? I just quit. Are you sure  _ you _ aren’t the lower life form?” She walked out of the office, slamming the door behind her and walking back to the lobby.

It was nearly as chaotic as before; the Aurors were in the process of trying to disperse the crowd and it was only working to a small extent. Deciding to leave the Aurors to clean up the mess, she Apparated away to the Lupins’ house.

* * *

Remus sat on the couch in the den, waiting impatiently for Maddy to come back. “Daddy, what happens if she dies?” Remus asked fearfully. “Will it be my fault? Will they take me away?”

“Of course it won’t,” his father assured him. “And she’s not going to die, so don’t you worry.”

“Are you—” He was cut off by a loud “crack” from outside. Maddy appeared on the other side of the front window.

“Mind letting me in?”

Remus screamed happily and ran to open the door for her. As soon as she walked in, Remus hugged her tightly around the middle. “I was so scared that you would die and Daddy said you wouldn’t but I didn’t know and I was  _ so _ scared—”

Maddy chuckled, patting Remus on the head. “Don’t worry, I’m alive.”

“Do you have anywhere to be?” Ian asked. “We need to have you over for the evening to repay a  _ fraction _ of what you did for us!”

“It was noth—”

“You saved Remus’ life! We can’t  _ not _ repay you!”

“Okay, just one dinner. Nothing else.”

As it turned out, Maddy was there for the rest of the evening, only leaving at nine-thirty when she realized that she would be missed at home.

“Thank you  _ so _ much,” Alex said for the millionth time, stopping her as she prepared to Apparate.

Maddy shook her head. “I told you; it was nothing.”

“It means  _ everything _ to us though,” she insisted, hugging her again. “If you hadn’t saved him…I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Can you move in?” Remus asked her quite seriously. Maddy laughed at the sincerity in his eyes.

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I’ve got a husband and daughter at home who are probably wondering where I am.”

“But will you come over again?” Remus pleaded.

Maddy laughed. “Sure.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Ian nearly did a spit-take when he read the headline of the Daily Prophet.

_ Werewolf Causes Chaos at Hospital _

_ Yesterday morning there was total chaos in the lobby of St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. According to many, everything began because of a young werewolf. _

_ ‘[The werewolf] deserves to die!’ said Shawn Keen, a visitor from America who was staying in the werewolf’s ward. “He pretended to be our friend, and I’m sure he was planning to kill us!’ _

_ It seems, from an eyewitness account, that the werewolf’s wardmates provoked him into running into the hall, and soon after one of the boys still in the ward yelled out that he was a werewolf. The boy made it out to the lobby, where Maddy Attkon, the former daytime secretary, Apparated him to safety. _

_ ‘What else would I have done? What else would anyone have done?’ she asked angrily. ‘Let a little innocent boy die?’ _

_ Many people would argue the ‘innocent’ part of her statement. ‘Werewolves are the bane of society!’ said John Schulte, a man who happened to be at the hospital when the riot began. ‘That woman must have been insane to willingly have brought him to safety!’ _

_ The werewolf, who has wished to stay anonymous, was not available for comment; however, Attkon spoke on his behalf. _

_ ‘I’ve never met a sweeter boy in my life,’ she said indignantly. ‘How anyone could hate him for something that is not his fault is beyond me.’ _

_ According to Dennis Wescott, the president of the hospital, Attkon has resigned from her job as secretary. ‘She came in and told me that she quit,’ said Wescott. “She said it was because of the “prejudice displayed by her co-workers” or some other rubbish.’ _

_ It is true that prejudice against lycanthropes is the most tolerated in modern society. Many people have tried to start movements to change views, but they have not had much luck. Infamous, feral werewolves such as Fenrir Greyback strike such fear into people’s hearts that they are terrified of all werewolves, even ones that try to lead normal lives. _

_ However much this view will try to be changed, there is only a small possibility that any of the anti-werewolf legislation will be reduced or vetoed completely. And whether lycanthropes are fully human is a controversy that may never be resolved. _

* * *

Ian slammed down the newspaper and glared at it as if it had personally done him harm. “The nerve of some of these people…”

“There’s nothing we can do about it, dear,” Alex said despairingly. “At least Maddy told the reporter to keep Remus’ name anonymous.”

“What’s ‘anomus’ mean?” a voice asked from the staircase. Both of them spun around.

“Nothing,” Ian assured his son.

“What’s on the paper?” Remus asked, coming into the kitchen and looking curiously at the pictures on the front page.

“Noth—”

“Isn’t that the hospital?” he asked, squinting through morning bleariness at the paper. “Daddy, what’s it say?”

He hesitated before saying, “It’s an article about what happened at St Mungo’s yesterday.”

“When everyone wanted me to die?”

“Yes.”

“So now everyone hates me?” Remus panicked. “Everyone knows I’m a w-werewolf?”

“No,” Alex assured him quickly. “Maddy told the paper not to put your name in.  _ And  _ she stuck up for you and said there was no reason to hate you.”

Remus was silent for a moment. “So nobody knows?”

“Nobody knows.”

“But what about Mr Streeter?” Remus asked suddenly. “Did they k-kill him?”

* * *

Jacob Streeter awoke blearily on the morning of November thirteenth to three voices yelling at each other. One of them he recognized as Remus’.

“Just shut up!”

“NO! You’re a  _ werewolf _ ! You don’t deserve to be part of society! You deserve to be  _ dead _ !”

As Jacob’s bleariness was wiped away completely, he saw Remus sobbing and running out of the ward. Before he could do anything to stop him, one of the boys yelled out, “That’s right; run away,  _ werewolf _ !”

_ Well, the word’s out now _ , he thought sadly as he saw people running down the hallway.  _ It’ll be a miracle if he survives… _

“Stupid, slimy piece of filth,” one of the boys was muttering. Jacob was about to say something to them angrily when a Healer rushed in, very white.

“Mr Streeter, you need to come with me,” she said quickly. Before the boys could ask why, the two of them left and walked down to a door at the very end of the floor.

“Please stay in here until I come and get you,” she said in a whisper. Jacob recognized her as the Healer who had come in to explain his condition to him. “You are in just as much danger as Remus is.”

Jacob nodded and allowed himself to be led into a lounge of sorts which he assumed was where the Healers spent their downtime. Only one Healer was in the room.

“What are you doing here?”

“Healer King told me to stay in here until she comes and gets me.”

The Healer looked confused. “Why?”

“No idea.”

Just then, another Healer banged open the door and said, “Bill! There’s a riot downstairs! Something to do with a kid werewolf!”

Bill sent Jacob a piercing look before tearing out of the lounge with his friend. Jacob sighed and sat down to wait for Becca to come back.

_ What’s going to happen to me? _

* * *

After an extended discussion with Remus, Mr and Mrs Lupin decided to continue sending him to Muggle primary school. After he graduated from that, they decided, Ian could home school him as an alternative to sending him to Hogwarts.

“Now, when people ask you where you were you obviously can’t tell them the truth,” Alex explained to Remus. “What we’ve told your teacher and the principal is that you had a very bad sickness and that you had to go to the hospital. We also told them that it will probably come back about once a month, so that will give you an explanation for the days you will miss.” What she did  _ not _ tell Remus was that Ian had had to Confund a few of the administrators who were suspicious of Remus’ extended illness. That would have pushed him over the edge.

Remus nodded. He had been wondering what his excuse would be, but he was still worried about his class work. “I missed a lot, right?”

“Yes you did, but your teacher said that you’ll only have to make up all the bigger assignments because you’ve been gone so long.”

* * *

Remus returned to school the next day and was immediately bombarded with questions from his classmates.

“Where were you?”

“What was wrong?”

“Are you okay?”

“Children,” Miss Katie said patiently, “I told you that Remus has been in the hospital for the past month and a half. He has a sickness that will come back sometimes, so he may be leaving throughout his time at school for a few days at a time.”

They exploded with questions once again:

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Why won’t it go away?”

“Will you be okay?”

“Calm down,” Miss Katie said over the noise. “Remus doesn’t have to tell you any more than he wants to.” Then she asked Remus, “ _ Would _ you like to share anything about your sickness?”

“No,” he answered, alarmed by all the attention he was getting.

“Well, please don’t ask him anything about it,” she said to the rest of the class. “Now, please sit down…”

* * *

Remus was not the active, hyper and outgoing six year old he had been before his hospitalization, and his teacher noticed. She held him back at the end of the school day and asked, “Remus, why are you so quiet all of a sudden? Before you left you were so happy to make friends!”

Remus shrugged. “I dunno, I just don’t like being with tons of people.”

Miss Katie raised her eyebrows but walked him out to his mother’s car all the same.

“Mrs Lupin, could I speak to you for a moment?”

She looked confused but told Remus to wait in the car and walked toward the school with Remus’ teacher. “I’ve noticed a drastic change in Remus’ attitude since before he became ill,” she said concernedly, “and I was wondering if there was a reason or if I could help him overcome it at all. He was so quiet all day and didn’t play with anyone during playtime…”

“He’s been like that ever since he became ill,” Alex told her. “A lot of the time he doesn’t feel completely well, but he doesn’t admit it. And there was also an incident at the hospital where he was nearly killed…he’s become rather friend-phobic, if you know what I mean.”

Miss Katie nodded in understanding. “I hope that this illness doesn’t change him completely; he is a wonderful boy.”

“Thank you,” Alex said, smiling and blushing slightly. They both walked back to the car, where Remus was waiting impatiently in his car seat and looking almost longingly at the children playing on the jungle gym. However, he waved cheerily at his teacher as his mother pulled out of the pick-up lane and began driving home.

* * *

A few days after the article was published about the riot, the Lupins received a frantic letter from Greta. It was obvious that she had written it in a hurry.

_ Mum, Dad and Remus— _

_ Was that article in the paper about Remus? It must have been, as he was the only werewolf there. I want confirmation that Remus is really okay, because I know that sometimes the Prophet gives wrong information. It’s all the school has been talking about today, and it’s frightening how many people seem to take those boys’ side. It’s all I can do to not punch their lights out. _

_ Please send me proof that Remus is okay. I’m going insane with worry and my friends have noticed that I’m acting weird. _

_ Lots of love, _

_ Greta _

Ian immediately pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote,

_ Greta — _

_ Yes, the article was about Remus, but he is all right. The Prophet got its facts right — about the incident anyway — and Remus is safe at home. _

He paused for a moment, then gave the quill and parchment to Remus, who finished the letter.

_ im ok Greta but it wus reely skare Mady savd me and im ok now _

_ Luv yoo _

_ Remus _

Ian laughed, sealed the letter and sent Hazelnut on her way back to Hogwarts.

* * *

Weeks passed, and it was December fourth—the day of the full moon. “Are you sure you want to go to school?” Alex asked Remus, fussing over his jacket.

“I’m fine, Mum,” Remus snapped, annoyed, though his pale face and shaking hands told otherwise. Along with being physically drained as the full moon approached, Remus was also in a foul mood. Alex understood why, but her heart broke as she dropped him off at school.  _ He shouldn’t have to go through this… _ Her mind flashed back to the days before his transformation in the hospital. He had been horrible to everyone then…the Healers had said that the symptoms would not be as bad, but what defined “not as bad?”

* * *

“Remus, are you all right?” Miss Katie asked in alarm as he stumbled into the classroom a minute before the bell rang. His classmates stared on, wide-eyed.

“I’m fine,” he snapped as he tripped and nearly fell on his face.

“You don’t look fine!” she said, rushing to him and helping him to his desk. “Do you want me to call your mother?”

“I’m fine.”

She was very surprised at the hard edge in his voice, but finally nodded and said, “Well, if you want to go home, just tell me.” As she walked back to the front of the classroom, she wondered briefly whether it was his mysterious illness coming back.  _ If it is, that’s one hell of a disease _ .

Remus, in his pod of desks, fared rather well through the morning. Granted, he was in an extremely bad mood and hardly touched his lunch, but he still participated in class to the best of his ability.

At around two-thirty, an hour before school got out, Remus’ head suddenly fell onto his desk, as if he were asleep. Miss Katie did not notice, as she was writing something on the board, so one of his pod mates tried to wake him up.

“Remus,” Michael muttered apprehensively—Remus had snapped at him multiple times that morning—“Miss Katie doesn’t like it when we fall asleep, wake up Remus, wake up!”

Remus did not move from his position on his desk, so Michael tried shaking him. He still did not stir. He began panicking— _ What’s wrong with him?— _ and said loudly, “Miss Katie?”

“Yes” she asked, turning around.

“Remus fell asleep and he won’t wake up! What’s wrong?”

Miss Katie looked over at Remus and saw that he was indeed out cold. She thought for a horrified moment that he might have died, but saw that he was taking short, jerky breaths as if it was causing his body great effort.

“Remus?” she walked to his desk and shook him lightly to try and get him to wake up. “Remus? You’re not in trouble, I promise…”

But still, Remus would not wake up. She was terrified at this point— _ What does this illness do to him?— _ and said, “Class, I’m going to call Mrs Lupin. Do you promise to be good and not touch Remus?”

Everyone nodded; their eyes were huge. As soon as she left and closed the door, the room exploded with sound. “Remus? Remus!” one of his other pod mates screamed in his ear. He still did not stir. “What’s wrong with him?”

* * *

Miss Katie tore across the school to the office, the only place with a telephone. Finally bursting in, she said, “I need to use the telephone; one of my students has passed out and his mother told me to call her if anything happened.”

“What’s his name?”

“Remus Lupin.”

After flipping through a few files, the secretary handed her the phone and read her the Lupins’ phone number. She dialed it and hoped to high heaven that someone was home.

After three rings, the phone finally picked up. “Hello?” Alex Lupin’s voice said from the other end.

“Mrs Lupin, this is Katie Grubiack, Remus’ teacher—he’s passed out and he won’t wake up…”

There was a momentary pause on the other end. “I’ll come get him,” Remus’ mother said finally. “It’s his illness; the doctors said that this sometimes happens.” The young woman nearly collapsed in relief. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

* * *

Miss Katie rushed back to her classroom, where all twenty of her students were grouped around Remus’ desk. “Give him some air!” she said sharply. “Let me see him!”

The students immediately backed up and Miss Katie got a good look at Remus. He was as white as a sheet and his face was contorted. She could not tell if it was in anger or pain.

“He was growling a minute ago,” a girl informed her.

She nodded, very confused, and picked him up from his chair. “Michael, can you get his bag?” The boy nodded quickly and grabbed it, stuffing the things on Remus’ desk into his bag. “Mrs Lupin should be here any minute, so we should go wait outside. The rest of you be good.”

Miss Katie and Michael began walking toward the school to the pick-up lane where she assumed Mrs Lupin would be. “Miss Katie, what’s wrong with Remus?”

“Mrs Lupin said it’s his sickness coming back again. Other than that, I don’t know any more than you do.”

They were only waiting half a minute before Mrs Lupin pulled up, nearly as white as her son. “Thank you,” she said, taking Remus and his bag. “He probably won’t be here for a few days.” She nodded.

“Tell him when he wakes up that I hope he feels better.”

* * *

On the short car ride home, Alex constantly glanced at Remus in the back seat. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to do with him; she supposed she should lay him down in his bed and get him downstairs sometime before the sun set. Then a horrible thought struck her:  _ What if Ian isn’t home in time to lock the door? _

_ Of course he will be! Don’t worry about that! _

After she had gotten Remus in his bedroom, she went outside to see how far away the sun was from setting. Estimating that Remus would need to be securely locked in the basement before six o’clock, she rushed into the kitchen to Floo her husband. She hesitated—she did not normally like using Floo Powder—but then she thought of Remus and what he had to go through. She mentally slapped herself— _ Suck it up, woman! _

She threw some of the green powder into the grate, and hesitated before deciding to just put her head in.

“Ian Lupin’s office!”  _ Hopefully he’s not tending to a patient. _

She felt a very odd sensation in which her head felt like it was spinning at a thousand miles an hour. Finally it came to a stop looking out at her husband’s office. He looked up from his paperwork when he heard her.

“What’s wrong? Is it Remus? Is he okay? Do I need to come home?”

“Yes, it’s Remus, he passed out at school and you need to be home in time to lock the basement…”

He swore. “Where is he now?”

“He’s in his bed; he’s completely out of it. I can’t wake him up.”

He swore again. “I’ll be home in a minute. Just let me tell my boss.” He stood up and walked quickly out of the office, and Alex pulled her head out of the fire.

She walked back up to Remus’ room and sat on the edge of his bed, nearly in tears. Remus was still very pale, covered in sweat and his face contorted in pain. For the millionth time in the past two months Alex’s heart shattered for her son.  _ What did he ever do to deserve this? _

* * *

Ian rushed down the hall to his boss’ office. Knocking briefly before barging in, he said, “Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but my wife just Flooed me, and my son is very sick. I need to go home  _ now _ .”

His boss eyed him, still rather suspicious of him after that morning’s talk when he had asked to be let off early; however, he nodded and told him to report back to work as soon as his son was well. Ian rushed back to his office, haphazardly packed his briefcase and Flooed home. Upon arrival, he threw the briefcase down and rushed upstairs to Remus’ room. Alex was sitting on the edge of Remus’ bed, stroking his hair. Her eyes were red and puffy.

“Is there anything we can do for him now?” she asked him helplessly. He shook his head.

“Nothing.”

The next two and a half hours passed in silence. “When should we bring him downstairs?” Alex asked hoarsely.

Ian checked his watch. “Maybe five or ten minutes before the sun sets. I’m not entirely sure.”

“So now?”

He glanced out Remus’ window at the sun, which was not very far from the horizon. “Probably.”

He carefully picked Remus up and took off his son’s shirt and pants; he remembered all too well what had happened to his clothes in the hospital. He carefully walked down the basement stairs and looked down into the darkness. It was more of a cellar, as it was unfinished and they had mostly used it to store food, but they had cleared everything out and put it into their magically enlarged pantry. Now the cellar was almost completely empty, save a conjured chair that Ian sat Remus in. He looked so small and harmless that Ian found it hard to believe that he would be transforming into a werewolf in a matter of minutes.

Alex was crying behind him, and Ian realized that tears were rolling down his cheeks as well. “Do you think you could conjure more things? So maybe he’ll tear them up more than himself?” she asked.

“It’s worth a try.”

With a few flicks of his wand, there were some more chairs and a wardrobe sitting in the room. “There’s really nothing more we can do for him now,” he said sadly, putting his arm around her and leading her up the stairs. He closed the door behind them and began to put the multiple charms on it that Becca had suggested. Just before he had put the last one on—the Silencing Charm—a horrible, desperate scream came from downstairs. Both parents flinched horribly, but Ian put on the final charm.

* * *

The night seemed to take an eternity to pass for the Lupins. Ian sat at the table, his head in his hands and a cold cup of tea next to him. Alex sat next to him, her head buried in her arms.

Finally, when the first beams of sunlight began to show over the horizon, Ian stood up, gently shook his wife out of her stupor, and walked to the basement door. He took off the Silencing Charm first, listening for any sign that Remus was still dangerous. Hearing none, he took off the rest of the spells and cautiously opened the door.

To his horror, the inside of the door was covered in enormous gouges, as if Remus had tried to break down the door. He shuddered and walked down the stairs.

The cellar looked similar to the cell in the basement of the hospital, with enormous claw marks across the floor and walls and quite a lot of blood everywhere. The conjured furniture was nearly unrecognizable. Remus lay in the middle of the floor, out cold and again a bloody mess. To Ian, he didn’t seem much better off than he had the month before.

He carefully picked up his son and carried him upstairs to his bedroom. Alex followed behind him, looking horrified. He set Remus down on his bed, pulled out the potions that Becca had given to him, and began trying to stop some of the bleeding.

It was very hard work, and Ian was thankful that he had been trained as a Healer. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Remus’ wounds were not bleeding as much, and bandages were covering everything that was still bleeding. Ian cleaned the blood off the sheets with his wand, and the two parents sat…

And waited.


	7. Chapter 7

As Remus grew up, he learned to cope. Never did he complain about anything, and he always tried to help everybody in any way he could.

His teachers grew concerned about his constant ill health and the gashes and scars that could not always be covered up, but he always wrote them away as something unimportant. Though his teachers worried about him, they did not pry, as it did not seem like he wanted to talk about it.

He became a social recluse during his time at primary school, opting to sit alone and not make any friends. Despite his teachers’ urging to open up to his classmates, he refused, saying that he did not want friends.

Dumbledore became Headmaster in December of Greta’s fifth year after Professor Dippet died suddenly after being ill all term. Professor McGonagall became the new Deputy Headmaster.

Meanwhile, at home, Remus was becoming even more of a recluse. Usually the only time he carried on a conversation with anybody was when he was speaking to his immediate family. Greta was the most annoyed out of all of them, and constantly tried to get Remus to open up.

“Remus John Lupin!”

“What?” an eleven-year-old Remus looked up from his book. The only thing Remus seemed to enjoy was reading, and he constantly clamored for more books.

“What has been wrong with you for the past five years?”

He glared at her. “You know bloody well what—”

“Remus, you know not to use that language in this house!” Their mother came in with a large bar of chocolate. “Here, eat this,” she instructed her son, “I’ve always found that chocolate helps to dull pain.” Remus gave her a strained smile. The full moon had been two days before and he was still trying to recuperate after a particularly nasty night.

“When you feel up to it, your father has something for you downstairs. He thinks he may have found something to help.” Remus smiled at her again, and she left his room after making sure he was all right. After the door closed behind her, however, Remus sighed and turned to his sister.

“How many ‘experiments’ are they going to go through before they realize there’s never going to be a cure?”

Greta scowled at him. “It sounds like you  _ want _ to be a werewolf!”

He bristled. “How could I  _ want _ to rip myself to shreds every month and  _ want _ to give up my mind to that monster?”

She seemed to shrink under his glare. “Well, it sounded like you’ve resigned yourself to being one, is all…”

“And why shouldn’t I? I don’t want to say anything to Mum or Dad—they’re trying so hard to find a cure—but most of the stuff they’re giving me is doing more harm than anything.”

“And how is that?”

“Some of them don’t do anything at all, which I don’t mind. But some of them make it worse, and I hurt myself more than usual. And the last one we tried—” he shuddered, “—I didn’t tell Mum or Dad, but it didn’t make me black out at all—”

“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Greta asked, confused.

“—but I still didn’t have control. I had to watch myself beat me up all night.”

Greta’s eyes widened and she embraced him in a gentle hug. “If you tell Mum and Dad that you want them to stop looking, I’m sure they will…”

“But they seem so desperate to cure me,” Remus said. “They’re acting like it’s their fault…”

“That’s exactly what they think,” she interrupted. “Dad especially—they blame themselves for what happened to you.”

“How is it their fault?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” she lied. She did know, in fact, but her parents had forbidden her from telling Remus. They thought that he would not be able to cope with the truth, and she agreed with them…for the time being at least. “I think it has something to do with their letting you go outside that night—”

“I was the one that decided to go into the forest!”

“Well, they still blame themselves, and I doubt that anything you say will put their consciences at ease.”

“I’m going to ask them to stop spending so much money trying to find a cure,” Remus said decisively. “It just makes life tougher for all of us, and I’m not worth that—”

“Remus John, you know that you’re worth all the gold in the world!” Greta said sternly, “And you had better not  _ ever _ think otherwise!”

“No I’m—”

“What is it with you and your inferiority complex?” Greta said loudly over his response. “Remus, you are just as great of a person as you were five years ago, and nothing will ever change that!”

He just shrugged and didn’t reply. Greta sighed and stood up. “Just yell for us if you need anything, all right?” He didn’t reply, and Greta left his room, shutting the door behind her and walking to the kitchen.

“How is he doing?” her father asked. She shook her head.

“He’s got a major inferiority complex that he needs to work out. I don’t know what to do with him; he seems to think that he’s not worth all the money we’re putting into finding a cure.”

“But of course he is!” Ian said. “Doesn’t he realize that we still love him?”

“I’m not sure if he does,” Greta said sadly. “He has no self-esteem whatsoever.”

“Well, we’ll have to work on that. I’ve just sent a letter to Dumbledore asking if Remus can go to Hogwarts. It’s not very likely, but it’s worth a shot.”

Greta raised her eyebrows. “Do you really think he’ll let Remus go? I mean, he’s a great man and all, but—”

“I know. That’s why I’m not telling Remus. It’ll break him if we get his hopes up only to have to crush them…”

* * *

Later that evening, Remus came downstairs, pale but resolute-looking. Before anyone else could say anything, he took a deep breath and said, “Mum, Dad, I don’t want you to spend so much money trying to find a cure for me. I’m not worth it.”

“Remus John Lupin, you  _ are _ worth it!” Ian said loudly. “It is in no way your fault that you were attacked by that werewolf, and you should  _ not _ blame yourself!”

“Just…don’t waste any more money on that,  _ please _ ?” Remus pleaded with him. “There’s so much more you could buy that’s worth it…I’m sure Greta wouldn’t mind some new school robes and she’s wanted that Cleansweep for a while now…”

“Remus, I would wear second-hand robes for the rest of my life if it meant curing you,” Greta said. “What’s more important: saving you from a lifetime of pain or my getting new robes?”

“At least what you want might actually happen,” Remus said bitterly, “Nobody’s  _ ever  _ going to be able to cure lycanthropy.”

“Remus, at least try this one,” Alex asked him, “If this one doesn’t work, we’ll stop trying them unless there’s one that’s  _ proven _ to work.”

He considered the idea. “Fine.”

* * *

The end of Greta’s Easter holidays came quickly, and she reluctantly went back to Hogwarts, making her parents write the moment they got the results of the newest potion. Nearly a month later a letter arrived for her—

_Greta—_

_The potion seems to have lessened the amount that he hurts himself, but it’s been four days now and he still hasn’t woken up. He’s also shaking all the time, and we don’t know why. If he doesn’t wake up in the next three we’re taking him to the hospital._

_– Mum and Dad_

The next day, as Greta opened her newspaper, the headline nearly made her choke on her pumpkin juice.

‘_Cure’ for Lycanthropy Poisoned_

_ In an apparently malevolent attempt to kill many of society’s werewolves, Maximillian Nott put out a potion on the market, claiming that it helps lessen the pain of the werewolf transformation. According to family of the numerous anonymous werewolves that opted to test this new potion, it did seem that they had hurt themselves less than they normally did. _

_ ‘When I unlocked the barn in the morning,’ one mother recalled, ‘my daughter seemed less bloody than she normally did. I didn’t suspect anything until she hadn’t woken up after three days; usually it doesn’t take that long.’ _

_ It is unclear how Nott poisoned the ‘antidote;’ no traces of silver were found in a sample of it and neither were any commonly-known poisons. _

_ Despite the threat to society that this man seems to pose, the Ministry has let Nott off with only a warning. This has angered many people for various reasons: _

_ ‘This man is a threat to everyone, not just society’s werewolves,’ an anonymous Ministry worker said, ‘By letting Nott off, the Minister has set him up to attack every man, woman and child in this country. Just because he hasn’t yet doesn’t mean he won’t.’ _

_ Another Ministry worker took a different view: ‘If you really think about it, the only werewolves that would be taking this potion would be the ones who don’t want to hurt others and who don’t want to transform every month. If this man must target one group of werewolves, he should target the ferals, who present a much bigger danger to society. And because of Minister Bagnold’s obvious bias against the unfortunate people who have taken this potion, their numbers will likely skyrocket in the next few months.’ … _

Greta couldn’t read any more of the article.  _ That man tried to kill my brother _ ! The article had not said whether the poison had actually killed those who took it or simply knocked them out, but she was determined to make sure Remus was okay. Standing up quickly and without saying a word to Amelia and Dorcas, she left the Hall and walked straight to the gargoyle leading to Professor Dumbledore’s office. Just then, she realized that she didn’t know how to get in.

“I need to see the Headmaster,” she told the gargoyle. It did not move. “It’s urgent,” she added impatiently.

“No password, no entrance,” it said in a gravelly voice. Greta growled.

“I need to ask him to use his fireplace to see if my brother is still alive or not—”

“You need to see the Headmaster as well, Miss Lupin?”

Greta spun around to be face-to-face with her Transfiguration professor. “Yes Professor, I read the article about Nott in the paper and my brother took that potion and I don’t know if he’s okay or if he’s dead and I would really like to use Professor Dumbledore’s fireplace to Floo my parents and see if he’ll be all right—”

“Understandable,” McGonagall said, her face softening in understanding. “Lemon drop,” she added to the gargoyle. It sprung aside to reveal a familiar staircase. Greta ran up the steps and knocked briefly before barging in.

“Good morning, Miss Lupin. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Dumbledore asked, looking rather surprised at her entrance.

“I was wondering if you would let me Floo my parents because my little brother took that poisoned potion that was in the paper today and I don’t know if he’s all right and I would really like to know, if you wouldn’t mind…” all of the words came out in a huge rush, and it took the Headmaster a moment to catch up. Finally he nodded and said,

“Take as much time as you need to; the Floo powder is in the jar on the mantle.”

She thanked him quickly and ran to the fireplace, putting her head in as McGonagall finally appeared in the doorway. She yelled out her address and finally come to a stop looking out into the kitchen of her house. Nobody was there; she assumed they were upstairs with Remus. “Mum! Dad!” she roared at the top of her lungs. A pair of footsteps came down the stairs, and soon her father was squatting in front of the fireplace, huge purple bags under his bloodshot eyes.

“Is Remus all right? I read the article and—”

“He’s alive, but he’s having a rough time of it,” he said quickly. “I’ve gone to St. Mungo’s already, they have something that seems to be helping and we’ve been giving that to him…”

“Can I see him?”

He hesitated. “Will Professor Dumbledore allow…?”

“I’ll ask him.” She pulled her head out of the fire and turned to the professors across the office. “Would you let me go all the way through, sir?”

He hesitated only a moment before finally nodding. “Be sure you’re back in a few minutes.”

She nodded and, after a few seconds, was standing in her kitchen. Her father was there waiting for her, and the two of them walked up to Remus’ bedroom.

He was paler than Greta had ever seen him, and occasionally a very violent electric shock seemed to go through his body. “Before he was shaking all the time,” her mother said softly. “That antidote seems to have helped a little.”

“So when should he wake up?”

“Nobody really is sure,” her father said, “Seeing as the poison was only discovered yesterday, nobody knows exactly what it is. There’s some people working on it, but all we really care about is that Remus will probably be okay.”

* * *

A bit less than a week after the publication of the article, Greta received a letter from home that brightened her day considerably:

_ Greta, _

_ I’m okay now. I didn’t realize how long I’d been out until Mum gave me the week and a half’s worth of homework from school I need to catch up on. That potion was really horrible … Mum and Dad promised to stop spending money looking for a cure, and I’m happy about it. _

_ I can’t wait for school to be out so Dad can start teaching me magic! It’s not as good as going to Hogwarts … but I’ll be okay. Plus, Dad promised to bring me to Diagon Alley as soon as school is out to buy me a wand! _

_ Have fun with your O.W.L.s! Dad said they’re horrible, but I’m sure you’ll do fine. _

_ Love, _

_ Remus _

* * *

Greta was torn between laughing and crying. Of course, she was glad that Remus was all right, but she felt bad that she was getting this wonderful education at Hogwarts while her completely competent brother had to be homeschooled!

“Greta, what is it?” Amelia asked curiously. Greta quickly shoved the letter into her pocket.

“It’s from Remus, he’s been sick for a while, but now he’s better.”

“He’ll be starting here next year, right?” Dorcas asked. “Didn’t he just turn eleven?”

Greta swallowed, but did not tell them the truth. “Yeah.”

* * *

The next two months put all of the fifth and seventh years under enormous stress, but after their exams they were finally free. After a rather uneventful train ride home, Greta stepped away from the barrier and was immediately tackled by a brown-haired something.

“Hey Remus!” she said happily, hugging him back. “You feeling okay?”

“Yep.  _ Plus _ I get to get my wand today!” His good mood so reminded Greta of the happy-go-lucky boy she remembered from five years ago that she couldn’t help but grin too. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

After they got home, Remus immediately ran into the kitchen and to the fireplace. “C’mon, dad,  _ please _ ?”

Ian laughed. “It’s nice to see you in such a good mood for a change, kiddo.”

Remus scowled. “Let’s just go!”

“Right away, your majesty,” Greta joked, but walked over to the fireplace as well. “Are you going to be getting books and stuff too?”

“He’s actually got most of them, either from you or from buying them before,” Ian said, smiling. “He is  _ quite _ the bookworm.”

Remus scowled again. “C’mon, dad!”

Both parents laughed and walked over to the fireplace as well. “Who’s first?”

Eventually all four of them were standing in the Leaky Cauldron. After politely refusing drinks from Tom, they walked back behind the pub. Remus was practically jumping with excitement by this time.

“I’m glad you’re going back to the happy boy I used to know,” Greta said, ruffling his hair. He just grinned at her.

They began walking up the street toward the wand shop. Ian constantly stopped at random stores, looking into windows and purposely irritating Remus.

“ _ Dad! _ ” he said after he stopped for the fifth time. He turned to his son innocently.

“What?”

“We’re  _ supposed _ to be buying my wand!”

“Oh yeah!” he said in mock remembrance. “Well, lead the way, Master Remus!”

He rolled his eyes but walked down a few stores and entered Ollivander’s. A bell chimed somewhere in the depths of the shop. Remus waited impatiently for the old man to come out from between the racks. At long last, he appeared somewhere from the left side of the store.

“Welcome,” he said, and then glanced at Greta.

“Miss Greta Lupin…13 inches, yew, dragon heartstring? Very good at charms?”

“Er…yes,” she said, pulling out her wand in surprise. Remus was in awe.

“How’d you—”

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, young Mister Lupin,” he smiled at him. “And Ian Lupin…9 and a half inches, cherry, unicorn hair, rather stiff…am I correct?”

“Yep.”

“So, Mister Lupin, are you going to go to Hogwarts this September?” Ollivander asked kindly as he began browsing the shelves and the tape measure took measure of Remus on its own.

Remus flinched as if slapped. “No…dad’s going to home school me.”

“Oh, for whatever reason?” he asked in surprise. “Hogwarts provides an excellent education, you know.”

“I don’t think the school will let me go,” he mumbled. Ollivander came out from behind his shelves, put the wand boxes he had picked on his desk, grabbed Remus’ shoulders gently—he flinched—and said,

“You know that Albus Dumbledore is Headmaster now, yes?” Remus nodded, not looking at the old man. “If I know Albus, he will not deprive any child of an education if he or she wants it. He was a few years younger than me at school, and I never knew him to speak badly of anyone. There is no reason as to why you should not go to that school, despite anything you may think will prevent it.” Remus finally looked into the wandmaker’s eyes, and knew—somehow—that he understood.

“Now, try this one: holly, phoenix feather—eleven inches. Very whippy.”

Remus took the wand from Ollivander and waved it a bit. Greta’s hair disappeared completely, and she screamed in horror. Remus laughed weakly, Ian restored her hair with a flick of his wand, and Ollivander took the wand from Remus’ hand. “No, I don’t believe that’s the right one for you,” he chuckled. “Not to worry, we’ll find your wand.”

Remus tried a few more wands without success. “What if none of the wands want me?” he asked his father frantically. Nearly all of his good mood was gone by now.

Ian shook his head. “I went through at least fifteen wands before I found mine. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Ollivander came back, carrying a few more boxes. “Yes, I think this might…try this one, dogwood, phoenix feather, 13 inches. Excellent wand for jinxes. Go on!”

Remus’ eyes widened at the name of the wood but took the wand. Suddenly a wonderful warmth spread through his fingers and to the rest of his body. Red and gold sparks shot out of the end, and Ollivander beamed at him.

“Yes, I do believe that this is the wand for you, Mister Remus Lupin. Congratulations! That is a rather powerful wand,” he added as he rang it up. “I expect you’ll go far in the world.”

“But—”

“No, I’m sure you will, despite any barriers you may think are blocking your way,” he winked down at him. “Now, off you go!”

Remus was very quiet on their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. “Knut for your thoughts,” Greta offered as they stepped into the pub.

“It’s just…do you think Ollivander was right? Will Dumbledore really let me into Hogwarts?” His eyes were so wide and hopeful that it broke Greta’s heart.

“I don’t know, to tell the truth. We’ll just have to wait and see if a Hogwarts letter comes for you.”


	8. Chapter 8

By the end of July, both Greta and Remus were impatiently waiting for owls from Hogwarts to come. Remus wanted to find out if he could attend, though he was not hopeful; Greta wanted to get her O.W.L. results.

The full moon fell on July twenty-seventh. Two days afterward the four of them were sitting in Remus’ room. He had woken up that morning but was still rather weak.

A loud hoot came from the general direction of the kitchen, and all four of them jumped. “I’ll get it,” Greta said excitedly, jumping up and sprinting down the stairs. Remus was terrified.

“Do you think it’s her test results?”

“It might be.”

“And if I get a letter will it come at the same time?”

“Probably.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds before a shrill scream came from the ground floor. Ian was halfway to the door when Greta came bursting back in, her face flushed.

“You got it you got it  _ you got it _ !”

Remus’ face split into a wide grin and he stretched out a bandaged hand expectantly. Greta gave him a thick parchment envelope.

On the front, it read:

_ Mr R. Lupin _

_ The North Bedroom _

_ 14 Sycamore St. _

_ Surrey _

He carefully tore up the seal on the back of the envelope, treating it like it was a sacred object. Nobody said anything, waiting in anticipation of what his future would hold.

_ Dear Mr Lupin, _

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. … _

“ _ Yes _ !” Remus punched the air, and just as quickly winced. He read out the rest of the letter, his face glowing. He set that parchment down carefully and began reading off the list of required supplies for school. Finally he was finished and said,

“But how?”

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to go, but his voice was incredibly disbelieving. He was obviously in complete shock.

“Dumbledore’s letting you go! Isn’t it amazing? You’re going to Hogwarts!” Greta said happily, hugging him gently. “You’ll be able to go to Hogwarts, just like everyone else!”

“But how?” His face had quickly turned from ecstatic to disbelieving. “How are they going to lock me up on full moons? How will I not attack everyone else?”

As if in answer, a smaller sheet of parchment fell out of Remus’ nerveless hand, unnoticed in his excitement. Ian quickly picked it up and read,

_Mr Lupin,_

_I am aware of your condition and am making arrangements to safeguard you during the full moon. If it is convenient for you, I would like it if you and your family came by my office on August third at ten o’clock in the morning in order to share these arrangements with you._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Greta hugged Remus again. “See? Dumbledore knows what he’s doing! You’re going to Hogwarts!”

Remus’ face split into the widest grin it had worn in years.

* * *

August third came amongst great excitement. Remus woke up at six and waited impatiently until a quarter to ten when everyone was almost ready.

“C’mon guys!” he said, irritated, waiting by the fireplace.

“Where are we going?” Ian asked in mock confusion. He scowled.

“You know where we’re going!”

At ten o’clock the four of them were finally ready, and they Flooed to Professor Dumbledore’s office. 

Remus was in awe. The study was enormous—at least half the size of his entire house—and there were dozens of impressive silver instruments, each whirring quietly on its own table. There was also a magnificent red bird on a perch; as Remus looked into its amber eyes, he instantly felt calmer and happier than he had seconds before. He was, however, still rather nervous about the fact that every single portrait behind Professor Dumbledore’s desk was watching him with interest.

“Hello, Professor,” his father said courteously, snapping Remus out of his reverie.

Dumbledore smiled. “Good morning.” He gestured to four chairs in front of his desk, and they sat down. “Mr Lupin, I’m assuming you would like to attend this school?” he directed at Remus. He nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, sir! Thank you for letting me come!”

“I see no reason as to why you shouldn’t,” he said kindly. “As long as you are kept safe during the full moon, there should be no problems. I have everything planned out.” He stood up, gestured to the Lupins to follow him, and walked to his large window. “Do you see that tree down there?” He pointed at a nasty-looking tree off on the edge of the grounds. They nodded. “That is a newly planted Whomping Willow. It covers a tunnel that leads to a safehouse where you will spend the night. Our nurse, Madame Pomfrey, will come and pick you up in the morning, patch you up, and as soon as you feel well enough, you will continue attending class.”

“What is this ‘safehouse’, exactly?” Ian asked.

“It is a very old, deserted shack in Hogsmeade that has been repaired and charmed so that nobody can get in and you cannot get out.”

“Are you sure—” Remus began hesitantly.

“I am quite sure you will be kept away from everybody while you are transformed.” The old man assured him. “I set the charms myself. Though it is very good to see that you take your condition seriously.” He smiled sadly down at him. 

The five of them sent to sit at Dumbledore’s desk again. “How many people are you going to tell?” Alex asked nervously.

“The staff will know, including our caretaker Mr Filch and our groundskeeper Hagrid,” he answered, “None of the students will know, and the staff only for your safety. If any student finds out, I will be happy to perform the appropriate Memory Charms.

“Before the sun sets, Madame Pomfrey will lead you out of the castle and down to that tree, the Whomping Willow. She will bring you to the safehouse where you will spend the night, and she will come for you in the morning. I am assuming that you will be in no fit state to walk back to the castle yourself?”

Remus shook his head. “No, sir. I’m always passed out the morning after the full moon.”

“So Madame Pomfrey will bring you back to the Infirmary where she will patch you up to the best of her ability. She is a very able Mediwitch, so I do not think you will have anything to worry about. And when you feel well enough, you will return to your classes.” He smiled at them. “Have I missed anything?”

“Er…there isn’t anything silver here, is there?” Remus asked nervously. Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

“I do not think that anything you should come into contact with is silver, unless you plan on stealing my instruments here,” he chuckled and gestured at the small objects on their tables.

Remus looked mortified. “I would  _ never _ do that, sir!”

He chuckled again. “I know you wouldn’t. I will double-check with my staff and make certain there is no excessive amount of silver in this castle.”

Remus relaxed. “Thank you, Professor.”

“If there is nothing else,” Dumbledore said, “I will see you two on September first.” He stood up. The Lupins mirrored him and walked to the fireplace.

“Thank you again,” Ian said graciously. Remus nodded, beaming at the Headmaster. He smiled.

“You are most certainly welcome.”

As soon as Ian disappeared into the green flames, Phineas Nigellus snorted. Dumbledore turned around.

“Do you have something to say, Phineas?”

“I simply find it rather radical of you to allow something like  _ that _ to enter the grounds of this school.”

Dumbledore’s eyes flashed. “If I had not told you that Remus Lupin was a werewolf, would you have known that he was?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean that he should come here as a student! What if he is simply an extremely good actor?”

Dumbledore sighed and walked to be face to face with the old portrait. “Remus Lupin was attacked by Fenrir Greyback when he was six years old. What if he doesn’t want to be what he is?”

Phineas opened his mouth to argue, but Professor Dippet’s portrait stopped him.

“Let it drop, Phineas. It is Albus’ decision as to who he allows into this school, and while you or I would not have allowed a werewolf to attend, Albus has different views.”

Phineas opened his mouth again, outraged and prepared to argue with Dippet, but Dumbledore put up a hand tiredly.

“If this proves to be a mistake, I give you all the right to rub it in my face later. However, I must insist that you give Mr Lupin a chance.”

* * *

A little less than a week later, Remus finally convinced his parents to bring him to Diagon Alley. “You’ve got most of the school books,” Ian read off the list as they walked down the crowded street. “And you’ve got your wand, so maybe we should start at the robe shop. We’ll probably have to get them second-hand—”

A derisive snort came from behind them. All four Lupins spun around, one of Ian’s hands going for his wand and the other placed protectively on Remus’ shoulder. They were greeted with the sight of a tall, dark-haired woman glaring at them, her husband and two sons in tow.

“Sirius, this is the type of riff-raff you should not associate with while at Hogwarts,” she said to the elder boy, who had turned a deep shade of red and was glaring a hole through the cobblestone. “Not even enough gold to buy new robes…” she pushed her way past them, pulling her family behind her.

The older boy glanced back at them, his face still very red. He managed to mouth “Sorry!” before he was pulled into the crowd by his mother.

The four Lupins stood in shock for a few seconds before Ian took his hand off of Remus’ shoulder. “Those were the Blacks,” he said in a voice of forced calm. “Walburga, Orion, and their two sons Sirius and Regulus. About as Dark a family as they come.”

Remus was going to ask more about the strange family, but the look on his father’s face told him the topic was closed. “Dad, you know I don’t mind second-hand robes,” he said quietly. His father ruffled his hair fondly.

“I know you don’t, kiddo. Just make sure that the fact that others mind doesn’t matter to you.”

Remus nodded. “I’ll stay away from people like Sirius Black.”

* * *

The month of August passed quickly, and August thirty-first came much sooner than expected. Remus was panicking much like Greta had before her first year.

“Dad, what if I don’t make any friends? What if I fail? What if people find out?  _ What if I bite someone? _ ” He said the last with such terror that Ian put a calming hand on his shoulder.

“It’s nearly impossible to  _ not _ be friends with people you room with for seven years. You’re a very bright boy; there is no way you could fail out of Hogwarts. If people somehow find out, Dumbledore said he wouldn’t mind performing a few Memory Charms. And Dumbledore himself has charmed that house so that you can’t get out, and with that tree on top of the tunnel, there’s no way anybody can get in.”

Still, Remus’ fears were not alleviated in the slightest. The next morning, Ian pulled their two trunks, complete with Greta’s owl cage, along King’s Cross. They received many stares from Muggles but ignored them.

“Here it is,” Ian announced grandly. They had arrived between platforms nine and ten.

“Mum, why can’t you come on the platform with us?” Remus asked desperately. He wouldn’t see her until December!

She smiled sadly. “I’m not a witch, dear. I can’t get past the barrier.”

Remus hugged her tightly. “I’ll miss you and dad…will you promise to write?”

“Of course,” she promised, “At least once a week. And will you promise to write back and to make friends and have fun at school?”

He didn’t answer, but they all knew what he would have said. “Remus, you’ll fit in perfectly at Hogwarts,” Greta promised him. He shook his head.

“No I won’t! I’ll fail all my classes and everyone will hate me and I’ll have to come home!” He looked up at the rest of his family, unshed tears in his eyes. “I shouldn’t be going! I should stay home and Dad should teach me!”

Greta grabbed her brother’s shoulders forcefully. “Remus, you need to listen to me,” she said sternly. “Do you remember what I sounded like before left for my first year? That’s what you sound like now. You need to get a grip on yourself.”

Remus glared at her. “You aren’t a—”

“I know your situation is different, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t entitled to an education! You will be coming on that train with me if I have to drag you there!”

Finally, Remus calmed down and the three of them walked through the barrier and onto the platform. Though Remus had been there multiple times to see Greta off, the sight of the magnificent red train still took his breath away and drove the situation home.  _ I’m going to Hogwarts _ !

He followed Greta into a compartment, dragging his trunk behind him with difficulty, and they began talking to their father through the window until the train began to move. At that point, Dorcas opened the compartment door. “Sorry I wasn’t here earlier, Greta, I overslept. Oh, hey Remus!” she added cheerfully, walking fully into the compartment and giving them both a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good,” he said. He had always liked Greta’s friends when they came over during breaks, though he was very glad she had not told them anything about his condition.

“How long do you reckon Amelia will be in the prefects’ compartment?” Dorcas asked, flopping down on the seat next to Remus. “Hope it doesn’t take too long…”

As their conversation went on, Remus’ mind began to wander. Sure, he loved Greta and Dorcas to bits, but they were sixteen-year-old girls, and he was an eleven-year-old boy. Just then the door slammed open and Amelia walked in.

“Sorry, the Head Boy wouldn’t shut up,” she said grumpily, flopping down into a seat.

“Oh, hi Remus!” she said suddenly, smiling at him. Apparently she had just noticed his presence. “Excited to be going to Hogwarts?”

He nodded, and the girls began a conversation that Remus couldn’t really participate in. Greta noticed this, yanked his trunk out of the luggage rack, and pulled him out into the hallway, saying to her friends quickly that she was going to help him find a compartment with some other first years.

“I was fine with you guys!” he said, irritated, as she looked into each of the compartment windows, trying to find one with other first years.

“Remus, you need to listen to me,” she said sternly, turning to face him. “You  _ will _ have friends, and you  _ will _ —“

“Oh, having a nice heart-to-heart on the train, I see?”

The voice came from behind Remus, who turned around only to be pushed behind Greta as she stepped in front of him, her wand out. “Go away,  _ Malfoy _ .”

“You are in no position to give me orders,  _ Lupin _ ,” he sneered, puffing out his chest so that his Prefect’s badge was clearly visible. “And if you don’t—”

“We aren’t breaking any rules,” Greta said loudly, pulling herself up to full height. Malfoy was still several inches taller than her. Unperturbed by this, she said, “Sod off.” And without another word, she turned her back on him and walked away, pushing Remus in front of her. He half-expected them to get hexed from behind, but nothing happened.

About halfway down the train, Greta peeked into a compartment, and her face came back grinning.

“There’s only two people in here; by the looks of them, first years. Go on!” she nudged him toward the door. “Go ask if you can sit with them!”

“And what if they say no?”

“Then they’re not worth your time, and we’ll keep looking. Now, go in!”

She retreated back a few feet so the occupants of the compartment would not see her, and Remus tentatively opened the door.


	9. Chapter 9

The two boys, who had been playing Exploding Snap, looked up. One had incredibly messy black hair, round glasses, and singed eyebrows; Remus thought he seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place from where. The other boy had dirty blonde hair and small blue eyes. He was shorter than the other boy but perhaps an inch taller than Remus; it was hard to tell. The second boy seemed more friendly to Remus, so he addressed him.

“Would you let me sit here?” he asked very quickly.

“Sure!” The boy quickly pushed candy wrappers off of the seat next to him, and Remus sat down after stowing his trunk in the luggage rack. “I’m Remus L—”

“We’re sticking with first names for now,” the other boy interrupted him. Remus was confused.

“Why?”

“Because the other guy in here doesn’t want surnames involved.”

Remus found it odd but agreed to give only his first name. he found that the blonde boy was called “Peter” and the other answered to “James.”

“Have I met you before?” James asked him suddenly, his burned eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Remus was thoughtful.

“Yeah, you’re kinda familiar…”

Just then, the door slid open. “You okay, Remus?” Greta turned around to see his sister in the doorway.

“Great, thanks.”

She beamed at him and closed the door again. “What was that about?” Peter asked in confusion, staring from Remus to the closed door, then back again.

“That was my overprotective sister, Greta.”

James looked as if he had just made the revelation of the century. “Your sister’s name is Greta? Didn’t I run you over in the bookstore a few years ago?”

Remus had to think a moment to pull back the memories of life before he was bitten. “Yeah! And I had that toy broom?”

James nodded excitedly. “This is  _ so _ cool! Do you fly?”

“Er…no.”

James looked mortally offended. “Why not?”

“I actually smashed that broom a couple of months after I met you.” He had never actually found out the fate of his beloved broom, but doubted very much that it would have supported the weight of the werewolf pouncing on its end without breaking.

“You quit flying because of  _ one _ accident?” James asked incredulously.

“I was in the hospital for a month and a half afterward.” Remus sensed the conversation going in a dangerous direction and was desperately thinking for a subject change when the door slid open again. Remus looked up.

“Sorry James, Peter, there was a line for the toilet—” his gaze fell on Remus, and he did a double-take when he realized who he was. Remus had recognized the boy from the moment he walked in.

“Hello, Sirius,” he said coolly as the boy rather uncomfortably took his seat.

“How do you know each other?” Peter asked curiously.

“We met in Diagon Alley.” Remus said shortly. Sirius was very pale.

“Look, I know my mum was out of place—”

“Bloody right she was out of place!” Remus said, his temper rising quickly; it was less than a week after the full moon. “So am I second-class to you because my parents don’t have enough gold to buy me brand-new robes? Because my parents have things they think are more important to spend their money on?”

“Look, I don’t think—”

“I don’t care what you don’t think! Your mother had no right to ridicule my entire family because of the amount of gold we’ve got sitting in Gringotts!”

“Just because my mother said something doesn’t mean I believe it too,” Sirius said hotly. “I know she was bang out of order and I never said anything against you or your family—”

“Look, guys,” James said loudly. He seemed shocked that Remus had such a temper, and Remus was not surprised; oftentimes he came across as a soft-spoken boy of few words, which suited him just fine. “Slow down. Remus, Sirius has already told me and Peter that he hates his family, and even though it sounds like you should be mad at his mum,  _ Sirius _ didn’t do anything to you.”

Both boys glared at each other but quit arguing. “Tell us what happened,” James prompted.

“My family and I were walking down Diagon Alley to the robe shop,” Remus began hotly. “Dad mentioned something about getting second-hand robes, then Mrs—” Sirius sent him a warning glare, “—Sirius and his family came up behind us, his mum basically said we weren’t worth dung, and walked off.”

“But did  _ Sirius _ do anything to you?”

“No, but—”

“We already know that Sirius hates his mother. Sirius, do you think any less of Remus because he wears second-hand robes?”

“No,” he said quickly.

“Then what’s the argument?” James asked in exasperation. “Sirius has never said a word against Remus and doesn’t care his robes aren’t new, so what’s the problem?”

Neither of the boys said anything, but they didn’t speak a word to each other through much of the train ride, during which Remus mainly read his book in stony silence and the other three either talked or played cards. James and Peter tried to reconcile the two of them, but they were not successful.

Somehow talk turned to the Hogwarts houses during the late afternoon: “My family’s been in Gryffindor since forever,” James said easily. “I think I’d leave if I got into Slytherin. What about you guys?”

“My mum was in Hufflepuff,” Peter said. “I don’t remember my dad much. Don’t even know if he was a wizard or Muggle. He left when I was four.” The other three looked rather sympathetic, but he waved it off. “It’s nothing, really. I’ve never seen Mum that upset over it, so I don’t bother myself.” He looked expectantly at Sirius.

“My whole family’s been in Slytherin,” he muttered, as if he didn’t want them to hear. “My parents would  _ kill _ me if I wasn’t.”

“But do you  _ want _ to be in Slytherin?” Peter asked.

“No.”

“I’ve heard that your opinion is taken into account,” Remus said to the compartment in general.

“What house do you want to be in, Remus?” Peter asked.

“Anything is fine with me really,” he answered. Really, he hadn’t given it that much thought with the excitement of attending Hogwarts, but he didn’t need to tell them that. “My dad was a Ravenclaw and my sister’s in Gryffindor.”

“What about your mum?” James asked curiously.

“She’s a Muggle,” he answered carefully, watching their faces for a reaction. Peter nodded in understanding and continued making the card tower he had been constructing for about half an hour now; James treated it like it was nothing out of the ordinary and began helping Peter; but Sirius finally said the first thing to Remus he had said since their argument:

“So you’re a half-blood.”

Remus felt his temper rise again. “Yeah, I am.”

The card tower unexpectedly exploded, and James and Peter looked up at the two of them with singed eyebrows and alarmed expression. James had quietly pulled out his wand, but Remus didn’t know exactly what he would be able to do with it.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Sirius said, answering the non-verbal challenge. “I was just saying.”

Remus eyed him carefully but did not press the subject further. Sirius sighed.

“Are you still bent over the Diagon Alley thing? I said I was sorry…”

Remus sighed too. He knew Sirius was right and that he had no reason to be angry with a possible friend.  _ And who am I to be prejudiced against anyone? _

“Let’s start over,” he offered, sticking out his hand. “Hi, I’m Remus. Want to be friends?”

“Let’s add in surnames,” Sirius said decisively, looking very relieved that Remus no longer disliked him.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“All right, Remus Lupin at your service.”

“Hello Remus Lupin,” Sirius said, shaking his hand enthusiastically, “I would be delighted to be your friend. My name is Sirius Black.”

The atmosphere in the compartment changed slightly and James noticeably stiffened, but Sirius either didn’t notice or didn’t care. The two of them turned expectantly to James and Peter.

“I’m Peter Pettigrew,” the blonde volunteered, shaking Remus’ and Sirius’ hands.

“James Potter.” Sirius’ eyes may have narrowed for the slightest part of a second, but then again they might have not. The two shook hands just as everyone else had, and the four of them sat back in their seats again. Once again, the compartment door slid open, and Greta appeared.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts soon, you guys might want to ch—” she stopped short when she saw Sirius, but recovered quickly. “—change into your robes. Remus, can you come out here a second?”

He nodded and stood up, knowing exactly what she wanted to say. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he promised the three of them, walking out and closing the door behind him. Greta began berating him the second the door was shut.

“Sirius Black, Remus?  _ Black _ ? What are you doing with him? Don’t you remember Diagon Alley?”

“Sirius did apologize,” Remus said patiently. “In Diagon Alley—you saw that.”

“But that doesn’t make it right! We’re second-class to him as half-bloods! I don’t know what’s gotten into you!”

“I asked him about that, and he said he didn’t care about that either,” Remus said. “He seemed a lot nicer than his mum—”

“But a  _ Black _ !”

“Look, you wanted me to make friends, right?” I reckon if James Potter can be friends with Sirius Black, I can too.”

“That’s a  _ Potter _ ?” Greta looked astonished that the heirs of two of the wealthiest and most prestigious wizard families would stoop so low as to talk to him. Remus saw her point, but pushed on.

“Do you have a problem with him too? I reckon I’ve talked to the three of them more than I talked to anyone in the past five years at school. Just give them a chance,  _ please _ ?”

Greta’s eyes were still narrowed, but she finally relented. “Black will be in Slytherin anyway, so you won’t be associating with him at all.”

Remus didn’t even try to argue with her, and walked back into the compartment, where the three others were in the process of pulling on their school robes. Remus pulled his out of his trunk as well. As he took off his jumper to pull his robes on over his tee shirt and pants, Sirius stopped trying to pull on his and gasped.

“What the bloody hell is  _ that _ from?”

He pointed to a long, nasty-looking scar down Remus’ arm from one of his worst transformations. Remus winced; he had forgotten entirely about being a werewolf during the train ride, and Sirius’ question brought him crashing back to reality.

“That was from my old neighbor’s dog,” he invented quickly. “It attacked me when I was little.”

“Ow,” the other three said in sympathy, and did not pursue the subject. Remus was relieved; in his excitement, he had nearly forgotten how dangerous it would be to make friends.  _ If anyone finds out _ …he didn’t want “Werewolf Causes Chaos” splashed across the front page of the Prophet like it had been all those years ago, so he couldn’t get close to anyone. His best bet would be to hope that he was sorted into a different house than James, Sirius and Peter.

As the train began to slow down and a voice instructed them to leave their luggage on the grain, Remus was feeling increasingly nervous. What if he got kicked out? What if one of the teachers let his condition slip? Would Dumbledore be able to modify the memories of that many people?

Before he knew it, he was being swept out into Hogsmeade Station by hundreds of older students, and he quickly lost James, Sirius and Peter in the crowd of people. He could hear someone calling for first years somewhere to his right, and he tried to get over to him; however, the tide of people kept him from getting near enough to yell out.

_ I’m going to get trampled and die and nobody’s ever going to find me and I’m never going to get to go to Hogwarts— _

He felt someone lift him bodily and turn him around.  _ Merlin he’s going to kill me— _

“All right there, kid?”

A tall, older boy with a Prefect badge was looking at him in concern. “Aren’t you supposed to be over with Hagrid? You’re a first year, right?”

“Y-yes,” he stammered out, slightly unnerved by the fact that his feet were a foot and a half off the ground. “I couldn’t get through—all the people—”

“Here ya go,” he set him down, took him by the shoulders and steered a path though all the students to a group of people—presumably the first years. “This is Hagrid,” the boy said to Remus, who had turned around to thank him. “You’ll be safe here.”

“Thank you—“ Remus realized he didn’t know the boy’s name.

“Frank Longbottom, fifth year Gryffindor Prefect. See you around!” and he disappeared back into the crowd.

Remus turned around to meet this “Hagrid,” but all he was met with was a pair of knees. His gaze slowly travelled upward about seven feet or so and finally saw a great mess of black hair, from which two sparkling eyes peered out. Remus was terrified— _ this man will keep me safe? _ He looked more like he would swallow him whole!

“Good thing yeh weren’ trampled,” the giant said, smiling kindly down at him. “I think tha’s ev’ryone, so let’s get goin’!”

Wondering exactly where they were going, Remus quickly sought out James, Sirius and Peter, who all breathed a sigh of relief when they saw him. “Merlin, Remus, don’t scare us like that! You disappeared after we got off the train and we couldn’t find you and we thought you were dead for sure and we wanted to go back and save you but Hagrid wouldn’t let us—”

“You wanted to come find me?” Remus asked, startled, before he could stop himself.

“Of course! That’s what friends are for, right?” James asked him in bewilderment. Remus mentally slapped himself.

“It’s just…I’ve never had friends before,” he said quickly.

“You’ve never had  _ any _ friends? What were you, a social reject?” 

_ You have no idea.  _ “Something like that.”

“Well, we’ll be your first friends then,” Sirius said decisively. James and Peter nodded their enthusiastic agreement as the four of them climbed into a small boat.

As the first years rode across the enormous lake, Remus began to think. Those boys really seemed to want to be his friend, even though—

_ No, they don’t know what I am, _ he reminded himself sternly.  _ And if they find out, they’d be the same as Jeff and Shawn. _

For the second time that evening, he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t get close to anyone.  _ It’s not worth the risk. _

At the first sight of Hogwarts, all of the first years gasped. Remus had only been in Dumbledore’s office and had not seen Hogwarts in its entirety. Now that it was staring at him in the face, he couldn’t help but be awed by the raw magic emanating from it.

Eventually their boat bumped into solid ground. Peter jumped off quickly, looking rather green; apparently he didn’t take to water well. James and Sirius followed behind him, laughing at a joke one of them had just said. Remus followed behind them slowly. He couldn’t push them away now; that would hurt them, and that was the last thing he wanted to have happen.  _ But they can’t find out! _

He struggled with himself during the walk up to the castle and soon found himself in a room off of the Entrance Hall. He assumed that the older students were already in the Great Hall.

He saw a very strict-looking woman at the front of the crowd, her black hair pulled back into a tight bun, saying, “…You will be sorted into one of four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. I assure you that each house has its own merits and shortcomings, and no one house is better than the others.

“While at Hogwarts, your house will be like your family. You will gain house points for your triumphs and lose them for your rule-breaking. You will sleep in your house dormitories and relax in your house common room.

“I will be back shortly to bring you in for the Sorting. Please wait quietly.” And she turned around and exited the room. Most of the first years either stood in petrified silence or whispered furiously to each other, not knowing how they would be Sorted. Remus was slightly better off, as Greta had told him how it worked.

“I heard we have to battle a  _ troll _ !” Peter whispered to Remus in terror. “How can we do that? We haven’t learned any magic!”

Remus snorted. “That was probably some older kids trying to scare you. My sister told me we just have to try on a hat.” Peter visibly relaxed.

The strict-looking woman came back after another minute or so, and she led them all back into the Entrance Hall and then into the Greta Hall.

There was another collective gasp from all of the first years; the hall was  _ enormous _ . Remus had read all about Hogwarts, but no book could substitute for the real thing. Once again he felt a surge of gratitude to Dumbledore for letting him come.

There were four long tables where all of the older students were sitting, and a fifth table on a raised platform where the professors were seated. Professor Dumbledore sat at the very center of the table. He glanced over at Remus and winked. Bemused, Remus smiled back.

“Look at the ceiling!” Peter said in awe. Remus leaned his head back to look up, and gasped. It didn’t seem as if there was a ceiling at all; it looked like the Hall just opened up to the sky. No book could adequately describe  _ this _ . It was a clear night, and immediately the moon caught his eye. It wouldn’t be full for more than three weeks, for he had just recovered from his last transformation, but it still sent shivers down his spine.

He was so caught up in staring around the Hall that he didn’t notice a very short man bringing out a stool and an old hat, and didn’t notice as the hat began to sing. However, when he did come out of his stupor, he caught the last few stanzas:

_ “Now all that’s left of them is me _

_ And I do what they did before _

_ But I do fear that safety’s key _

_ Does not lie in the houses four _

_ Darkness, danger are coming now _

_ To live you need to form a team _

_ Before you come and ask me ‘How?’ _

_ Things are not always as they seem.” _

The hat fell silent, and everyone burst into applause. “What did it mean, ‘darkness and danger’?” Sirius asked in confusion. 

Before they could discuss the matter, the strict woman pulled out a scroll of parchment and said, “When I call your name, come up and put on the hat. Allen, Rachelle!”

A tall, blonde girl somewhere near the front of the group walked to the hat on shaky legs, sat on the stool, and set the hat on her head. After a few seconds of deliberation—

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table second from the left exploded in applause. Rachelle smiled and walked over to her new housemates. Remus noticed that the her robes had changed from the generic black to black with yellow trim.

A Slytherin and two Ravenclaws were sorted before Sirius’ name was finally called:

“Black, Sirius!”

Sirius strode up to the hat, outwardly looking confident but inside terrified.  _ Was Remus right? If I ask it not to put me in Slytherin, will it not? _

He felt the hat being lowered onto his head, and a voice spoke into his ear. “Hmm…another Black, I see.”

Sirius jumped slightly, and the voice laughed. “I’m the hat. Now, where to put you…your family has all been in Slytherin…”

_ And if you put me in there I’ll tear you limb from limb, _ Sirius thought threateningly. The hat laughed again.

“I wasn’t going to…you’re too rebellious to go to Slytherin. Let’s see…intelligence, yes, but you wouldn’t fit into Ravenclaw…plenty of loyalty as well, but you wouldn’t fit into Hufflepuff either. I’d have to say you’d be best in GRYFFINDOR!” It yelled the last word to the entire hall.

There was no applause as there had been for the other four students. Instead, shocked whispers filled the hall. Sirius ignored them and walked to the table on the far left, grinning. Dumbledore began clapping. Quickly taking his lead, the rest of the school did as well, though they still sent him strange glances. Sirius sighed as he saw Bellatrix’s furious face across the hall.

It was going to be a long seven years.


	10. Chapter 10

Remus clapped along with everyone else when Sirius was unexpectedly sorted into Gryffindor. He looked over to the Gryffindor table and sought out his sister, whose mouth was still hanging open. He caught her eye and grinned, then quickly turned back to the hat, where “Carr, Heather” was made the second Hufflepuff of the year.

Soon after Heather was sorted, a girl by the name of “Evans, Lily” was called up. She walked to the hat rather shakily, but she seemed quite calm after she sat down on the stool. After a few seconds—

“GRYFFINDOR!”

James groaned, but Remus was unsure why. Glancing at the Gryffindor table, Sirius seemed to have the same reaction. Peter looked just as confused as Remus felt.

Remus got rather bored waiting for the L’s and began looking at each of the teachers. There was Dumbledore, obviously, intent on the Sorting. There was an empty seat next to him; Remus assumed that was where the woman now calling “Felts, Heidi” to the hat usually sat.

On the other side of the Headmaster was a very large man with graying hair and an enormous moustache. Remus would have thought him intimidating if it were not for the twinkle in his eyes.

Halfway through his inspection of the teachers, one of the names that was called nearly made Remus jump out of his skin.

“Keen, Alena!”

A slightly familiar girl made her way through the remaining first years. The hat was on her head for a while before declaring her a Gryffindor. Remus groaned; if he was sorted into Gryffindor, he would be associated with her more than he would like, and if she wrote home about a Remus Lupin at school and her parents remembered—

He barely registered his name being called a few names later and began walking numbly to the hat. He uncomfortably saw that nearly every pair of eyes was on him before the hat obscured his vision entirely.

“Very interesting,” a voice in his ear said. “ _ Very _ interesting…there’s never been one like you here before, has there?”

Remus felt his face redden.  _ Please don’t tell anyone— _

“What do you take me for?” the hat chuckled. “Of course I won’t. Now, there’s no need to be ashamed of yourself. Just because you have an affliction such as this doesn’t mean you can’t be happy.”

_ But nobody can find out— _ Remus thought desperately.

“Not everyone will hate you for what you are,” it assured him. “Now, where to put you…definitely not Slytherin, perhaps not Hufflepuff…either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, I’d say. Such a thirst for knowledge and quite a strong will…but you are very brave, to live through what you do—“

_ I’m not brave! _

“You are much more than you know,” the hat said cryptically. “Yes, I think you’ll make a fine GRYFFINDOR!”

He felt the hat being pulled off his head, and he began walking down to the Gryffindor table amidst applause.  _ Just like any other kid. They all think I’m normal. _ Dumbledore winked at him again as he sat down across from Sirius.

Immediately after Remus, Mary MacDonald was quickly sorted into Gryffindor. She sped off to sit with Lily Evans and Alena Keen.

A few names later, the woman finally called out, “Pettigrew, Peter!”

* * *

Peter walked shakily to the hat. Remus had been right—all they had to do was try it on—but how exactly did it sort? It was lowered onto his head, and he sat in terror, waiting for something to happen.

“You’re an interesting one,” a voice said in his ear. “You’d fit in nearly every house…you have a good heart, yet you’re so willing to prove yourself… perhaps not Ravenclaw, but the others are all equally good choices. Your loyalty to your friends would place you in Hufflepuff, yet your will would put you in Gryffindor and your ambition and cunning point to Slytherin.”

Peter was rather stunned by the hat’s monologue, but thought,  _ My friends have been sorted into Gryffindor, and I’d really like to be with them. _

“But you could do very well in Slytherin,” the hat told him. “You have the potential to be great there—”

_ I won’t be in Slytherin! _ Peter thought, alarmed.

“Well, if Slytherin is out of the question, a good second choice would be GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat was lifted off his head, and Peter hurried to sit with Remus and Sirius, both of whom were clapping enthusiastically. “Well done, mate!” Sirius said happily, clapping him on the back. However, Remus shushed them and pointed up to the hat, where McGonagall was calling, “Potter, James!”

As James walked confidently up to the hat, Peter was preoccupied with his thoughts.  _ Why’d the hat think I should be in Slytherin? I’d never fit in with all those Dark people! _

He was glad the hat had listened to him, as he didn’t think he would have survived five seconds in Slytherin.

He resolved to never tell his friends about what the hat had said.  _ They’d never accept me if they knew! _

* * *

James clapped for Peter after he was sorted into Gryffindor. As soon as the applause died down, McGonagall called his name, and he strode confidently up to the hat. He sat down on the stool, and the hat fell onto his head.

“You’d definitely do best in GRYFFINDOR!”

James grinned as the hat was pulled off his head only a second after it had been put on, and he walked to the Gryffindor table, sitting down next to Remus and as far away from the girls as he could manage. 

* * *

The rest of the sorting went by uneventfully. The only name that interested James and Sirius after James had been sorted was “Snape, Severus.” Lily Evans also sat up a bit straighter on Remus’ other side. The hat deliberated for quite a while before finally declaring him a Slytherin. Evans’ shoulders slumped, but James and Sirius looked very pleased.

Finally, everyone had been sorted into their houses. The four of them ended up being the only first year Gryffindor boys. Remus’ stomach had been rumbling for quite a while. Dumbledore stood up, and Remus internally groaned, bracing himself for a long speech. However, the Headmaster only said one word—

“Enjoy!”

Remus was very confused until he saw that the previously empty gold plates in front of him were now covered with food. He began piling sweet potatoes on his plate as James took a well-done steak.

“Would you pass the rare steak?” Remus asked hopefully.

James made a face. “You like it rare?”

Remus shrugged. “Yeah.”

James made another face but passed the plate down. Peter took it from Remus after he had served himself.

“Don’t worry, Remus, I like mine rare too,” he assured him. James threw his hands into the air.

“Have I made friends with a bunch of vampires?”

Peter and Sirius laughed, but Remus was very worried. If James didn’t want to be friends with a vampire, who was to say that he wanted to be friends with a werewolf?

“And what if we are vampires?” he asked with as straight a face as he could manage. James laughed.

“I was kidding, Lupin. As long as you didn’t suck my blood I wouldn’t care.”

Remus grinned and began digging into his steak. This was a good sign; he accepted that he might be a vampire, so maybe he would accept that he was a werewolf.

There was still no way in the world he would be telling them.

On his other side, Lily Evans, Alena Keen and Mary MacDonald were carrying on their own conversation. Apparently Lily was a Muggleborn, and Alena and Mary were telling her all about the magical world. During a lull in their conversation, Remus screwed up the courage to ask Alena. He was almost positive she was the girl he had met at the hospital, but he had to be sure. 

“You’re Alena Keen, right?” he asked her. She looked up in confusion.

“Yeah…you’re Remus Lupin?”

“Uh huh. I was just curious…are you related to Jeff and Shawn Keen?”

She stared at him, mystified. “How’d you know that?”

Remus’ fears were confirmed, but he answered, “I remember they were in the paper a few years ago about something happening about St. Mungo’s.”

Alena turned scarlet. “When they bullied that poor werewolf? None of my family is proud of that. They’re my cousins. They were completely out of line. That kid had never done anything to them…they left real quick after that. I haven’t seen them since.”

Remus’ eyebrows were in danger of rising, but he stopped them so Alena wouldn’t get suspicious. “ _ That poor werewolf _ ?” The one emotion that he couldn’t stand directed at him aside from hatred was pity.  _ But she doesn’t know, _ he reminded himself.  _ And I intend to keep it that way. _

“I was just wondering,” he said, thinking of no other way of ending the conversation. She nodded, and they both turned back to their new friends.

Eventually everyone was full to bursting with the wonderful food, and the plates were cleared. Then Dumbledore stood up again, smiling at all of the students. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! It is my greatest pleasure to be Headmaster of this school for another term, and I hope I will do a satisfactory job.

A change in staffing have been made this year. We have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; I hope you will help me in welcoming Professor Neasce!”

A strict-looking man with short-cropped hair stood up stiffly, inclined his head, then sat down just as stiffly. Remus immediately thought him a bit odd, but clapped politely along with the rest of the school.

“Now, before you go to bed, I have a few start-of-tern notices for all of you. Mr. Filch has added those new Fanged Frisbees to his list of forbidden items,” many people groaned. “If you would like to see the complete list, it is posted on his office door.

“As a reminder to some and a notice to all, the Forbidden Forest is indeed  _ forbidden _ . The centaurs have been rather restless, and it is my sincerest hope that none of you get on their bad side.

“Any second year or above—” James grumbled about the unfairness of it, “—who wishes to try out for his Quidditch team should give his name to his Head of House.

“And, as a final notice, Professor Sprout has added a new tree to her collection of dangerous plants out on the grounds. It is aptly called a Whomping Willow, and it is my sincerest hope that none of you come within reach of its whomping branches.

“Now, up to your dormitories! You will want to be rested for your classes tomorrow!”

Everyone stood up from their tables, the first years unsure exactly of where to go; however, their fear dissolved when two older students, one whom Remus recognized as Frank Longbottom, began calling for all the Gryffindor first years. Once they were assembled, the prefects led them off. The first years had to nearly run to keep up with Frank’s long strides.

After going what Remus thought must have been at least a few miles, they finally stopped in front of a portrait of a rather large woman in an unflattering dress. “Password?” she sang.

“Frog spawn,” Frank said clearly. The woman in the portrait nodded and swung her frame out to allow them entrance.

“The password will change about once a month, but word will get around quickly enough as to what it is,” the girl explained. She had long, blonde hair, pulled back into a ponytail. “I suppose we should have introduced ourselves? I’m Emmeline Vance, and this nutcase is Frank Longbottom. If you need any help around Hogwarts, we or anyone—but the Slytherins—would be happy to point you in the right direction.”

“Now, go to bed!” Frank said in a tone of mock severity. “The girls’ dormitories are on the left as you walk in, and the boys’ are on the right. You’ll be on the top-most level,” and he bowed them elegantly through the portrait hole.

Still very confused, the first years climbed through the portrait hole. Not many people were in the common room; Remus assumed that they were already up in their dormitories. He, Peter, James and Sirius turned right and saw the door Frank had mentioned. Remus took the initiative to open it, and the four of them climbed up the stairs until they found the door labeled “First Years.”

There were four magnificent four-poster beds spread out around the edge of the circular dormitory. There were also a few windows and a bathroom.

After all of them were settled in, they were faced with the predicament of changing into their pajamas. James and Sirius apparently had no qualms about changing in front of each other, but Remus and Peter were a little more apprehensive. Peter quickly sped off for the bathroom, toiletries and pajamas in hand, which left Remus to fend for himself.

Eventually he decided on pulling the curtains around his bed and changing behind them. After he pulled them closed, James’ voice came from the other side—

“Merlin, Lupin, just because you don’t have muscles like me and Sirius doesn’t mean you can’t change out here with us!”

Remus snorted. “I’m  _ sure _ you’ve got muscles of steel, Potter.”

James didn’t reply, but Sirius’ guffawing carried into the bathroom, and Peter came out, toothbrush in hand.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, Sirius and Remus are just astounded by my muscles, is all.”

“Wait, so Remus is a queer vampire now?” Peter asked, sounding very confused.

“According to those two buffoons,” Remus stuck his head out of his hangings, laughing. “No, I’m not,” he assured him at his horrified face. “But we can let them think that!”

“Oh, so you’re calling us stupid buffoons now?’ James tossed a pillow at Remus’ head, hitting him straight in the face. “Great thing for a friend to say!”

The three others laughed, but Remus withdrew back behind his hangings. He kept forgetting that he couldn’t allow himself to make friends!

The problem was that James, Sirius and Peter were far too trusting, willing to make friends on sight.  _ How can I tell them I can’t be their friend? _

Deciding to sleep on it and ask Greta in the morning, he buttoned the final shirt button, bid his dorm mates good night, and, without even entering the bathroom, fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow.


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning, a very loud and very high beeping woke Remus up. Covering his ears, he yelled—

“Turn that off!”

A grumble came from somewhere across the dorm, and the noise stopped. “Thanks for the wake-up call, Lupin,” James’ voice said in annoyance.

“That alarm didn’t wake you up?” he asked incredulously.

He was only answered with another grunt. Pulling apart his hangings, he checked his own clock and groaned—a little after seven. Deciding to take advantage of the fact that Sirius, James and Peter were still in the process of waking up, Remus grabbed a set of robes and his toiletries, saying he was going to take a shower. He was met with no opposition, so he rushed into the bathroom and locked the door.

He showered quickly, changed into the uniform, and began brushing his teeth. he stopped in surprise when he looked up into the mirror. He did not normally care much for looking at his reflection, but this surprised him greatly. He had looked much worse, he decided, but he was by no means healthy-looking, and overall he seemed much older and paler than he had ever realized. Wondering why nobody had ever mentioned this to him and why he hadn’t noticed it himself, he rinsed out the sink, ran a comb through his hair and went back out to the dormitory.

James and Sirius were changing, and Peter’s curtains were drawn; Remus assumed that he had done what he himself had the night before.

“Aren’t you guys almost ready?” Remus asked as he picked up his bag.

“What, excited to get to class?”

“What about breakfast?”

James cursed and glanced at the clock, which told him it was nearly 7:30. “Any idea when it ends?”

“No clue.”

“It probably doesn’t end so early, though,” Sirius said, flopping onto his four-poster. Remus raised an eyebrow.

“So you know exactly how to get around the school? You could get us down to the Great Hall and then to class, no problem?”

This shut him up. The three other boys quickly got ready for breakfast, bringing their bags in case they took too long getting lost, and descended to the common room. After shutting the door behind them, Remus was engulfed in a huge hug.

“Remus!” Greta squealed. “I’m so proud of you! Mum and Dad’ll be so happy!”

“Greta…” Remus started uncomfortably. She beamed.

“Well, welcome to Gryffindor, all of you!” she said cheerily. “I think you’ve all met me—“her gaze lingered on Sirius, “—and these are my friends, Amelia Bones and Dorcas Meadowes.”

James, Sirius and Peter nodded. “Would you mind leading us down to breakfast?” James asked, giving them a winning smile. Greta laughed.

“Why wouldn’t I? Remus  _ is _ my brother, after all!”

The four boys were very glad that Greta and her friends helped them down to the Great Hall, because Hogwarts was, as Sirius bluntly said, a bloody maze.

“They should have a map of this place,” Peter grumbled. Amelia laughed.

“If you want to write it when you get older, go ahead. Sell it to all the incoming first years for a galleon each...you’ll make a fortune.”

Everybody laughed. “Here’s the Great Hall,” Greta said, holding open the grand door and letting them walk in. “We’ll help you get to your first class once you get your schedules.”

“Thanks!” James, Sirius and Peter said together, and began walking across the hall to the Gryffindor table. Greta and her friends made to follow them, but Remus held Greta back. Amelia and Dorcas looked curiously at her, but she waved them away, saying she would join them in a few minutes.

Remus yanked her back into the Entrance Hall and into a small alcove, hoping nobody would overhear them. Before she could say anything, he launched off in a panic—

“I don’t know how I can get them to stop being my friends, they’re too nice and I don’t want to hurt their feelings but they can’t find out—“

“Remus,” she said forcefully, “There is no way for you to push them away. They’re your friends!”

“But they can’t—“

“I’ll cover up for you while you’re gone; we can think up stories to tell them about where you are for a few days. And Dumbledore said that if anybody ever finds out, he’ll put a Memory Charm on them. You have  _ nothing _ to worry about.”

“But I don’t even know how to have friends! I’ve never had any before—“

“Just act like your usual self,” she said. “Don’t let them force you into doing something you don’t want to do. And you don’t have to answer a million questions about where you go, either. If they won’t leave you alone, tell me, and I’ll shut them up.”

“And another thing,” Remus said abruptly. “How come you or Mum or Dad never told me how  _ awful _ I look?”

Greta looked genuinely confused. “What’re you talking about?”

“I look so  _ old _ and it’s so  _ weird _ , because I’m only eleven but I look like I’m a hundred million years old—“

“I think we need to get something straight. You do  _ not _ look like you’re a hundred million years old. You look like an eleven year old who’s had to grow up way too fast.” She hugged him. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, all right? Just have fun here.”

He nodded, obviously unconvinced. Greta sighed and led him into the Great Hall.

“What did you want with your sister?” Peter asked as he sat down.

“I just had to ask her something, is all.”

“And you couldn’t ask in front of us?” James said, eyebrows raised.

“You don’t need to know about it,” Remus assured them. “Family stuff,” he added at their disbelieving faces. Finally, they dropped the subject.

The strict woman—Remus had learned that her name was Professor McGonagall—began coming up the table halfway through breakfast, handing out parchment with schedules printed on them. She finally got to them, and Remus glanced over his. It seemed that on Monday mornings, he had Transfiguration and Potions, and after lunch he had History of Magic.

“Brilliant!” James said after they compared schedules. “We’ve got  _ all _ our classes together!”

“What do you guys have today?” Greta asked, leaning over to look at Remus’ schedule. “Transfiguration...McGonagall’s a great teacher, but don’t get on her bad side. Potions is all right, but Slughorn really only favors those in his “Slug Club,” which I’m not a member of...he’s Slytherin Head but he’s all right. Binns is dead boring but you can do anything you want in his class and just catch up on the reading later.”

Remus felt a bit better now that he knew three of his teachers weren’t downright evil. They finished their breakfast before the food disappeared, and the sixth years led Remus and his friends out of the Great Hall and up the grand staircase.

“Transfiguration is on the first floor, and History is on the fourth,” Greta said. She first showed them where Professor McGonagall’s classroom was, and then showed them Professor Binns’. “Potions is in the dungeons; just follow the others if they seem to know where they’re going. Here you go.” They had arrived outside of McGonagall’s classroom again.

“Thank y—“

A bell rang somewhere, and all seven of them jumped. Dorcas checked her watch and cursed.

“We’ve got five minutes to get out to Herbology...”

“See you at lunch!” Remus called after the three of them. They waved as they sprinted off down the corridor. 

Seeing nothing else to do, the four boys entered the classroom.

Professor McGonagall looked up in surprise when they walked in; evidently she had not expected first years to be early on their first day of school. “My sister showed us the way here,” Remus volunteered at her questioning stare. She nodded in understanding.

“Well, you might as well take the seats of your choice and wait for your classmates to find their way here.”

They all nodded and immediately took the seats in a back corner of the classroom. One by one or in small groups, their classmates began arriving. Nearly all of the class was situated by the time the bell rang. The others came running in within a minute, their faces red.

McGonagall looked annoyed but said, “I’ll let you go today, but next time I’ll take off house points.” The group of latecomers nodded quickly and took the front-row seats, the only ones left. Remus saw that they were Lily, Alena and Mary, their fellow Gryffindors.

McGonagall started the class by taking attendance. She finished this quickly, and afterwards she began speaking—

“I will be teaching you the complicated art of Transfiguration. This is not a class you will be allowed to mess around in. Any display of immaturity will...”

Remus saw that James and Sirius were not listening to a word McGonagall was saying, and when they were told to copy the diagrams off the board, they did not so much as lift a quill. “What’re you doing?” Remus muttered to James incredulously as he tipped his chair back on two legs and yawned.

“I’ve got a bloody good memory—don’t need to take notes.”

Remus raised his eyebrows and turned back to McGonagall, who was now passing out a box of matches. “We’re supposed to turn them into needles,” Peter groaned as she passed them, placing four on their shared table. Remus groaned too, but for a different reason; needles were generally silver, weren’t they? He didn’t plan on testing  _ that _ theory.

Studying his copied diagram carefully, Remus picked up his wand and gave it an experimental flick, muttering the incantation she had given them. Nothing happened. He tried a few more times, but his match seemed too stubborn to change.

Looking to his left, he was astonished to see that James was observing a shiny, pointy needle at eye level, squinting at it critically. “Eh, could be a bit better. The tip’s still red...” He looked over at Remus when he noticed his staring, and he grinned. “Impressed?”

“Just a bit,” Remus said, shrugging. “How’d you do it?”

“Like this,” he quickly said the counter-spell she had given them, turning it back into a match, then he flicked his wand upward and said the incantation. It turned into a needle again. “Now you try.”

Remus raised his wand and copied what James had done. The match took on the characteristics of a needle but stayed wooden. He wondered briefly if it was his aversion to silver that was causing him trouble. James grinned encouragingly.

“Good! Try and flick it more, you’re waving it more than anything...”

Remus was astounded that James, who he was not sure was even listening to the professor’s lecture, was helping him, but he was infinitely thankful for it. He kept trying, and after a few minutes it turned into a true needle.

“Great job!” James grinned at him again. At that point, McGonagall passed by their table.

“Excellent work, Mr Lupin, Mr Potter,” she said, apparently surprised that any of her students had accomplished the task so quickly. “Five points each to Gryffindor!”

Remus and James grinned at each other. “I could get used to this.”

Sirius mastered the spell a few minutes later, but it seemed that Transfiguration was not Peter’s strong point. By the end of class he had made almost no change to his needle.

“Don’t feel bad,” Remus assured him. “Hardly anyone’s got it right.”

At the end of the lesson, Professor McGonagall came around with a box, into which all of the students were putting their matches and needles. Remus was starting to panic, but James took the initiative to collect all four of theirs and place them in the box.

The bell rang soon after. As Remus, James, Peter and Sirius were heading for the door, McGonagall called after them—

“Mr Lupin, could I have a word?”

His friends looked very confused, but Remus told them to go on ahead to Potions; he would catch up with them. They looked doubtful but exited the classroom, closing the door behind them. Remus was sure that they were waiting on the other side of it, but he had no time to tell them off before McGonagall ushered him to the front of the room with a much softer expression on her face than she had worn during class.

“As I am your Head of House, Professor Dumbledore asked me to tell you where you are to go on the night of the full moon. I am aware that he has briefed you on the general idea, but there are some details that I don’t think you know of as of yet.

“On the day of the full moon, if you are not feeling well enough to attend classes, you will report to the Hospital Wing. An hour before sunset, Madame Pomfrey will lead you out under the willow and to the safehouse. She will come back to collect you in the morning so you can return to your classes that afternoon—“

“Wait a minute,” Remus interrupted her. “I’m not going to be well enough by  _ that afternoon  _ to go back to classes! That’s around the time I wake up—there’s  _ no way _ I’ll be able to go to class then!”

The professor’s eyes widened and flashed with something. Was it pity? Horror? Remus couldn’t tell. “Well, as soon as you are well enough, you will attend classes again,” she corrected herself. Remus nodded and turned to go, but she put a hand on his shoulder—he jumped at the touch. “Is there anything we can do to make this easier for you, Mr Lupin?” she asked in a soft voice. He shook his head.

“There’s nothing.”

Her face was somber. “Well, if you ever need anything, remember that you can always talk to me or Professor Dumbledore. We will be happy to help you in any way possible.”

He nodded again and left the classroom. As he expected, James, Sirius and Peter were waiting impatiently for him.

“What’d McGonagall want?” Sirius asked as they made their way to where they thought Potions might be.

“Nothing really, just had a few questions for me.” He set his face in a stony expression, hoping they wouldn’t pursue the subject. Luckily for him, they didn’t.


	12. Chapter 12

The tardy bell rang just as they were passing through the Entrance Hall. After asking a kind-looking seventh year the directions to the potions classroom, they burst through the door less than five minutes late. The rest of the class turned around, and the professor raised his eyebrows.

“Do you have a reason for your tardiness?” He did not sound angry, but he was stern.

“Actually, yes,” James began brightly. “We were leaving Transfiguration when McGonagall asked to talk to Remus so we waited for him and then by the time he came out the bell had almost rung so we had to run down here and find the classroom, and since it’s our first day here and all you really shouldn’t take points from Gryffindor,” he finished with a wide grin to the professor. Everyone seemed dazed by James’ monologue. Remus had no idea anyone could talk that fast!

After a moment, the professor seemed to have caught up. “I was not going to deduct points,” he chuckled. “I was just curious as to why you were late. And since you seem to have a valid reason...” his voice trailed off, and he looked down at a piece of parchment. “Presumably you four are Messers Black, Lupin, Pettigrew and Potter?” They nodded. “Well, since I have a temporary seating chart made out, I will give you your seats.” Remus groaned inwardly. In his experience, seating charts never turned out for the best.

_ I’ll be lucky if I can work at all with this horrible smell! _ he thought. The dungeons smelled to him like a combination of manure, dead skunk and other things Remus couldn’t identify, but because nobody else had said anything, he assumed it was his sensitive nose kicking in and held his tongue.

“Mr Black, I have you paired with Mr Snape,” the professor said, pointing to the Slytherin boy with greasy black hair. Sirius scowled as he sat down, pushing his chair as far away from Snape as he possibly could.

“Mr Lupin, you are partners with Miss Keen,” Slughorn pointed to the girl in question. Remus’ stomach dropped. 

_ What are the odds? _

“Mr Pettigrew, partner with Mr Belby over there,” he gestured to a proud-looking Ravenclaw near the front. “And Mr Potter, for the time being please pair with Miss Evans.” He gestured to the redhead at the table next to where Alena and Remus were seated. James and Evans glared at each other as he sat down, eyes burning in obvious dislike.

“Now, as I was saying I am Professor Horace Slughorn and head of Slytherin house.” James snorted derisively. It carried through the entire dungeon, but Slughorn pretended not to notice. “In this class...”

Remus got bored rather quickly and began scanning the room, observing his new classmates. The only ones he recognized from the Sorting were the Gryffindors and Severus Snape. There was Lily Evans, still glaring at James; Alena Keen, diligently taking notes, Mary MacDonald, watching the professor intently but not lifting a quill; and two girls that Remus was positive were related: Danielle and Kristen Rudd. He knew there was another Rudd in the sorting, and, scanning the room again, he saw a boy who looked very similar to Danielle and Kristen. Philip Rudd, Remus remembered suddenly, had been sorted into Ravenclaw. Remus wondered briefly if they were triplets and made a mental note to ask them the next time he had the chance.

Alena nudged him, annoyed, when she saw that he wasn’t listening to Slughorn, and gestured to the front, where the professor was pointing out several different potions that they would be making during their years at Hogwarts.

After that small introduction, to the potions, Slughorn began pulling out some ingredients that he said they would have to know, as they were used in modern potions. One, which he said had two different names—monkshood and aconite—had been identified only recently. Remus thought it gave off an even more horrendous stench than the dungeons themselves. He wrinkled his nose and glanced around the room, but nobody else seemed to smell anything. 

When Slughorn held it in his hand and began to describe its qualities and uses, the room began spinning and Remus suddenly couldn’t breathe. As he gasped for breath, the last thing he remembered was Alena looking at him in confusion before everything turned black.

* * *

Alena picked up her quill again to begin taking notes on monkshood when she saw Remus gasping across the cauldron. She was very confused but was horrified when his eyes rolled back and he collapsed off his stool onto the floor.

Professor Slughorn looked up in alarm when Remus fainted, and turned very white. “Miss Keen, Mr Potter, bring Mr Lupin to the Hospital Wing immediately,” he said urgently, quickly putting the monkshood back in its jar and in a drawer. Without stopping to realize that they had no idea where the Hospital Wing was, the two of them picked Remus up under the arms and went out of the classroom as fast as they could.

They rushed up the dungeon stairs into the Entrance Hall. “Do you have any idea where the Hospital Wing is?” James asked. Her stomach dropped.

“No idea...”

Guessing it was up on one of the higher floors, the two of them struggled up the staircase. Remus was still out cold.

Just before they decided to run in a classroom and ask one of the teachers how to get to the Hospital Wing, they ran  _ through _ something, sending a cold shiver down both of their spines. Looking over their shoulders, they saw a pearly-white ghost in a ruff scrutinizing them.

“Aren’t you students supposed to be in class?” he said in disapproval. Alena suddenly recognized him as Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor ghost, who she had met the night before.

“Never mind that, Remus had some sort of allergic reaction in Potions and we need to get him to the Hospital Wing but we don’t know where it is and he looks sick and really he looks like he’s about to die so could you please show us the way to the Hospital Wing?” James’ words came out twice as fast as they did when they had arrived late to Potions.

Nick looked at Remus curiously. “Do you know what caused him to faint?”

“Professor Slughorn was just showing us monkshood.”

The ghost looked confused but said, “This way.” He led them up a few sets of stairs until they arrived at a pair of doors. Opening one quickly, the two ran in, and the ghost yelled to a woman across the room—

“Madame! There is a student who has had an allergic reaction in Potions class! Come quickly, please!”

A kind-looking but rather intimidating young woman came over quickly and surveyed Remus. “What did you say his name was?”

“Remus Lupin,” James said. “Could you find out what’s wrong and fix it? You can fix anything, right?” He looked up at her with such hope in his eyes that the woman sighed.

“Not quite _ anything _ , but I think I’ll be able to deal with an allergic reaction.” She took his limp form and put him carefully in the nearest bed. “What exactly caused this reaction? He didn’t ingest anything, did he?” She looked so alarmed at the idea that Alena was curious as to why, but she explained what had happened.

The matron looked even more confused. “Would one of you kindly check the Gryffindor common room for Greta Lupin? I’d like to know if he has any allergies that I don’t know about.” James nodded and sped out the door.

“And you may go back to class,” she said to Alena. “It’s a good thing you brought him when you did. You can tell your classmates that he will probably be all right.”

Alena’s stomach plummeted at the word “probably,” but she didn’t dare say no. She left the room, followed by Nick after he deemed his presence unnecessary. This left Madame Pomfrey alone with Remus.

“Monkshood...what’s that used in?” the nurse muttered to herself. She jumped as an electric shock seemed to go through Remus’ body. She ran to his bedside, waving her wand and running tests quickly. Just then, the door banged open, and Greta hurtled in, very white. James followed closely behind her.

“Where’s Remus?” she asked wildly. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I’m not sure,” she said sadly. Again, a shock went through Remus, who was still unconscious. Greta barely was able to stifle a scream.

“Merlin, that’s—” she stopped short when she realized that James was still there, standing rather awkwardly. “James, would you mind....?”

“Why?” he asked stubbornly. “I have as much right as you do to be here!”

“Please,” she implored him. “You can come back over lunch I guess, but can you please go back to class?”

James eyed them suspiciously but left the wing, shutting the door loudly behind him. Greta didn’t wait a breath in continuing.

“That’s what he looked like when he took that potion back in April! Do you think monkshood is poison to him just like silver is?” she turned toward Remus’ bed again, eyes wide. “He didn’t eat any, did he? Oh Merlin, he’s going to die and—”

“Miss Lupin,” Madame Pomfrey interrupted her quickly. “Your brother did not eat any monkshood. Horace had only taken it out and shown it to the class. It must have been the smell that caused this reaction.

“And if you’re right in saying that this is the same reaction he had to the potion in April, that may well have included monkshood. I wonder why nobody realized the connection until now...” she hurried into her office, coming back a minute later with a file a minute later. “I think there’s something in here about how to make the antidote....yes, here it is!” she pulled out a piece of parchment triumphantly. “I’ll ask Horace to make it. No, don’t worry, it only takes half an hour to brew,” she added at Greta’s stricken face. “Your brother will be fine in no time.” Looking thoroughly unconvinced, Greta nodded and sat down in a chair next to Remus’ bed.

The bell rang a while later to signal the start of lunch break. Madame Pomfrey left the wing quickly to bring Slughorn the instructions for the potion.

After five or ten minutes, the door slammed open and four figures ran into the room. Greta recognized the three boys as Remus’ friends, but she did not remember ever meeting the girl.

“Will he be okay? What’s wrong with him?” Black asked quickly. Greta had to keep from scowling. Whatever Remus said, she did not trust Sirius Black.

“He had an allergic reaction to that monkshood Slughorn showed you in class, but Madame Pomfrey’s got it under control. She went to get Slughorn to make the antidote a little bit ago.”

The four visibly relaxed and sat down. Greta was relieved that none of them thought to question why there was a specific antidote for what seemed like an isolated case. 

“He’ll be okay?” Peter asked, looking almost skeptical as he stared down at Remus. Greta understood why that didn’t seem possible at that moment; Remus was still chalk-white, and electric shocks coursed through him every fifteen seconds or so.

“Yep. Madame Pomfrey knows what she’s doing.” Greta found that it was hard to decide whether she was convincing herself or them.

They sat in silence, waiting for Madame Pomfrey to come back. After a while, the silence became nearly unbearable, and the girl said, “You’re his sister?”

Greta nodded. “And you are...?”

“Oh, I’m Alena Keen, his potions partner,” she said quickly. Greta had stopped listening at the mention of her surname.

“Er...you don’t happen to be related to Jeff or Shawn Keen, do you?”

Alena grinned a bit. “You know, Remus asked me the same thing yesterday. They’re my cousins, but we don’t talk to them much after what happened at the hospital.”

Greta nodded, nearly sighing in relief. This girl, one of the ones most likely to find out the truth, didn’t seem to hate werewolves as much as her relatives. 

Fifteen minutes later, Madame Pomfrey came running in, a jar of electric blue potion in her hand. “He’s supposed to have ten milliliters of this ever quarter-hour until he wakes up,” she said, measuring out the correct amount. “I’m not sure how long that’s going to take, so if he isn’t awake by the end of lunch I expect you all to go to class.”

“But—” Sirius interjected. Madame Pomfrey held up a hand to stop him.

“No buts. There’s no use in your missing class to sit next to an unconscious friend. You can come back after the bell has rung.” The four first years looked very grumpy but did not dare argue with the formidable matron.

The hour allotted for lunch came and went, and Remus’ friends reluctantly left for History of Magic, grumbling about it the entire way. Greta, who had another free hour, never left her brother’s side. The spasms were less frequent after Madame Pomfrey began giving him the potion, but he only came around after James, Peter and Sirius had been back in the Hospital Wing for nearly half an hour after class. Alena had apparently gone to the common room with her friends.

Remus groaned, and all four of them jumped. Greta immediately pushed him back down when he tried to sit up. “What happened?” he asked blearily.

“You fainted in the middle of Potions,” James explained bluntly. “You had the craziest reaction I’ve ever seen.”

“What happened?” he asked in alarm.

James laughed at the look on his face. “You didn’t sprout fur or anything. It looked like you couldn’t breathe and you were turning blue and you were on the ground after about two seconds.”

Remus looked even more panicked. “When he pulled out that—that monkshood, I couldn’t  _ breathe _ and I would have said something but I  _ couldn’t _ —”

Peter laughed. “I’m pretty sure you got your problem across pretty quickly, mate.”

Remus did not share his amusement. “What did I miss? What time is it? How long have I been out? What—”

“Whoa, slow down,” Sirius said in surprise. “You missed the rest of Potions and all of History, but Binns is so boring honestly you didn’t miss anything—”

Remus looked scandalized. “I’ve missed a class and a half already? How am I going to catch up? There’s no way—”

His friends stared at each other, at a loss. “Look—” James put a hand on Remus’ shoulder, but he flinched horribly and shied away.

“What’s that about?” he asked in surprise. “Did you think I’d hit you?”

“Sorry,” Remus said, not quite meeting his eyes. “I just don’t like people touching me, is all.”

“But your sis—”

“Oh, you’re awake!” Madame Pomfrey looked pleased as she came over to his bed and gave him a quick glance-over. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” he said truthfully. Sure, he had a headache, but he had had much worse. He saw no reason to stay in the hospital for a _ headache _ .

She looked suspicious but agreed to let him leave after checking a final time to make sure he was all right. James, Sirius and Peter insisted on asking him about his strange reaction to James’ touch all the way back to the common room until Greta finally told them to shut up and threatened to hex them if they didn’t.

* * *

“Really, Remus,” James continued to press as they sat in their dormitory later that night. “Why did you flinch like that? I wasn’t going to hit you!”

“I  _ told _ you,” Remus said, irritated. “I don’t like it when people touch me.”

“But  _ why _ ?” he asked. “You don’t have that reaction when your sister hugs you!”

“Well, she’s my sister, isn’t she?” he snapped back. “I’ve grown up with her. I’ve known you for all of a day and—”

“Okay, we get it,” Peter interjected, effectively shutting the two of them up. “Remus, you don’t want to tell us. Fine. James, drop it.”

James looked surprised that the smaller boy was ordering them around, but both Remus and Peter shot him such glares that he quit prying.

* * *

That night, after Remus was fast asleep, the three others snuck down to the common room. Luckily for them, it was empty. 

“What do you reckon is up with Remus?” Sirius asked as they stood by the dying fire.

Peter glared at him. “You woke us up at midnight for  _ this _ ? Look, if he’s so scared to be touched by anyone he doesn’t know like family, he’s got to have a good reason. Just leave it alone.”

James and Sirius stared into the fire. “You know, maybe you’re right,” James said finally. “We shouldn’t bug him about it.”


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning, Remus awoke to James’ shrill alarm once again. He groaned and pulled his pillow over his head.  _ If this is what it sounds like now, what’ll it be like around the full moon? _

However, James shut it off quickly, and the four of them slowly got ready for breakfast. As they were walking down the dormitory stairs, Peter said, “Hey...Remus? We’re really sorry about prying yesterday. We were worried, is all.”

Remus smiled in relief. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’d probably do the same if any of you had been in my place.”

Greta, Dorcas and Amelia led them down to breakfast again as Remus consulted that day’s schedule. “Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing,” he said, “then Herbology, then after lunch Charms.”

That doesn’t sound too bad; Sprout and Flitwick are great,” Dorcas said encouragingly. “I don’t know about that Neasce man though...he looks strict.”

The others nodded in agreement. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

The sixth years led them to Professor Neasce’s classroom and then sprinted off to Transfiguration. They walked into the classroom, again five minutes early. The professor glanced up at them.

“Stand in the back,” he said, his voice daring them to disobey. “I have a seating arrangement for when your classmates arrive.”

Glancing at each other, the four of them retreated to the back of the classroom and stood there, waiting. As the seconds trickled by, the silence got rather awkward. it had not been that way with McGonagall; though she was strict, she had a slight aura of motherliness about her. Professor Neasce seemed to be military general material and about as willing to bend as a steel rod.

Eventually, the other students arrived in the classroom, glancing curiously at Professor Neasce and the boys at the back of the classroom.

The moment the bell rang, Professor Neasce stood up and inclined his head toward the students. “Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. As this is my first year teaching, I have much to learn about this profession—”

“Like how to speak modern English,” Sirius sniggered, apparently not caring that the entire class heard him.

“—and I certainly will not tolerate disrespect. Five points from Gryffindor,” he finished. Sirius gawked at him. “I expect you to respect me. In turn, I will respect you.”

_ At least he’s fair, _ Remus thought to himself.  _ No house divisions to him, apparently. _

“If you are sick or otherwise absent from my class, I expect you to receive the assignments and notes from one of your classmates. If you have any questions, please ask. As long as they are applicable to the subject, I will be happy to answer them. That is what I am here for, after all.

“I have a seating arrangement, putting you in alphabetical order. After the first term, if you prove that you are able to handle sitting with whomever you wish, I will allow you to. If not, you will remain in this arrangement all year.

“Rachelle Allen, please sit up in this chair,” he pointed to the chair in the front left corner. She nervously walked over and sat down. “Jacob Aupler, please pair with Miss Allen.”

He continued through the list of students; as he called each name, he seemed to scrutinize the student that it belonged to. Sirius was paired with Damocles Belby, Peter’s Potions partner. Remus was partnered with Mary MacDonald, and James and Peter were partners.

After he had finished seating everyone, Professor Neasce turned to the blackboard and flicked his wand. “Before we get started with today’s practical lesson, please copy these notes on Boggarts. This is the first Dark creature we will be discussing. This year will be split between common Dark creatures and basic defensive spells.”

_ Pretty good curriculum, _ Remus thought.  _ If this is first year, I’d hate to see what the seventh years have to do _ . His only worry was that werewolves fell under the title of “Dark creature”...he hoped Neasce didn’t reveal too much.

After looking up at the board, he began to copy the notes. He already knew about Boggarts, as he had read about them before he started school; however, he wanted to make a good first impression, and that meant doing what the teacher said.

After he got to the end of the notes, he noticed something very odd: Neasce gave no specific spell on how to defeat Boggarts. Mary seemed to have noticed this as well and said,

“Uh...Professor? Are you going to give us a spell to get rid of it?”

“Very astute observation, miss,” he nodded. “Once everyone has finished with the notes, I will get to that.” The last few stragglers hurried to write down the rest of the board. “Now, does anybody know the spell to defeat a Boggart?” Neasce asked. Nobody else raised their hand, so Remus tentatively raised his.

“Yes, mister...?”

“Lupin, sir,” he said. “It’s  _ Riddikulus. _ ”

The professor nodded. “That is correct. Five points to Gryffindor.” Remus was glowing; he had only been at school for two days, and he had already earned ten house points!

“Would you like to demonstrate how to dispel a Boggart, Mr Lupin?”

Remus froze and stared at the professor, but there was no malevolence in his gaze; there was only encouragement.  _ Didn’t Dumbledore say the staff would know? _

“Uh...okay,” he said finally, hating the stares people were sending him. “Where is it?”

“In this cupboard,” he gestured for Remus to come to the front of the room. He complied, pulling his wand out of his pocket.

“The rest of you form a line behind Mr Lupin,” Neasce instructed. “Once you successfully  _ Riddikulus  _ the Boggart, step out of the way so the person behind you can have a chance at defeating it.”

Many people blanched and tried to get spots near the end of the line; however, James, Sirius and Peter stood right behind Remus. “You ready for this, Lupin?” a nasty voice asked snidely from behind them. “Let’s hope it doesn’t turn into monkshood, otherwise Potter and Keen will have to drag you to the hospital again.”

They spun around; Severus Snape sneered back at them. “Sod off, Snivellus,” James said nastily. “I imagine shampoo would have the same effect on you, so don’t go pointing fingers now.”

Remus only had time to wonder briefly why Severus Snape was so nasty and why James was so rude back before Professor Neasce said, “Mr Lupin, are you ready?”

Remus spun around just in time to see a full moon fly out of the cabinet. He froze, staring at it, and stumbled back into Sirius.  _ Oh please no don’t transform Merlin no... _

But nothing happened after a few seconds, so he composed himself quickly and imagined it becoming a tennis ball, bouncing around the room.  _ “R-riddikulus!” _

Luckily for him, the spell worked on his first try, and a tennis ball madly began bouncing around, making people chuckle. “Excellent, Mr Lupin,” Neasce praised him, though there was a strange glint in his eye that Remus couldn’t quite place. “Return to your seat.”

Remus nearly ran out of the way of the Boggart. Sirius now stood in front of it, his face set. Once it realized that this person was not scared of full moons, it quickly transformed into a tall, imposing woman Remus had seen once before.

Mrs Black towered over her son and began yelling at him incoherently. Though Sirius was very white, his face was set and he said, “ _ Riddikulus!” _

The Boggart-Mrs Black looked down at herself; her black formal robes had changed to American Muggle hippie clothing. Most of the class laughed out loud at this, and Sirius walked back to his seat, grinning in relief.

Peter was up next, and he stepped up, trembling a bit. The Boggart disappeared, and everyone was confused for a moment before many people gasped; Peter was standing on the edge of a cliff, on the verge of falling off.

“ _ R-riddikulus! _ ”

The abyss in front of him was no longer empty and bottomless; it was full to the brim with pillows.

“Excellent! Next!”

Peter picked his way back to his seat, giving Remus and Sirius an enormous grin. James stepped up just short of the pillows. They quickly disappeared to be replaced with an enormous, snarling wolf.

Everyone screamed and stumbled backward. James was frozen to the spot, staring into the wolf’s abnormally golden eyes...

Remus was horrified.  _ James’ greatest fear is  _ werewolves _ ? If he ever finds out...! _

“James!” Sirius said in alarm as the werewolf slowly advanced on him. James snapped out of his stupor and pointed his badly shaking wand at it. “ _ R-r-riddikulus!” _

Nothing happened, and the werewolf continued advancing on James. “ _ Riddikulus _ !” he tried again, stronger this time. The werewolf morphed into a puppy, which began chasing its tail. Many people laughed in relief, and James stumbled back to his chair, still very white.

Half of the class went against the Boggart with varying degrees of success before it exploded. “Excellent work, all of you!” Professor Neasce said, looking pleased. “Five house points to everyone who went against the Boggart. For those of you who didn’t, I will try to have another for you to defeat next class.”

Everyone began pulling their bags on their shoulders, preparing for the bell. “Homework—six inches on defeating a Boggart, please. Due to me Friday, our next class.” Everyone groaned but had no time to argue, as the bell rang almost immediately after. Rushing for the door, the students were outside in a matter of seconds.

“Why are you scared of crystal balls, Remus?” Peter asked, completely out of the blue, as they made their way out to their first Herbology class.

Remus jumped, confused for a moment. Then he realized that Peter must have mistaken the full moon for a crystal ball. “I guess it’s because my dad took me to a Seer when I was little, and she prophesized a bunch of horrible things about me.” It was a bad lie, he knew, but he hoped they wouldn’t call it.

Sirius laughed. “Is that all that scares you? Merlin, Lupin, you’ve got it good.” Remus decided not to reply, but Sirius went on anyway. “Now James here,  _ that _ was scary.”

“Yeah, why are you so scared of werewolves?” Remus asked, curious for the answer. “It’s not like you’ve ever seen one, have you?”

“Actually, I have,” James said shortly. “When I was six, it must have been right after I met you...I was out one night and came face-to-face with one. Scariest night of my life.”

“Did it bite you?” Remus didn’t remember Dumbledore saying anything about another werewolf at Hogwarts!

“’Course not. Would I be here if it did?” he waved vaguely around the hallway they were walking along. “I climbed a tree and yelled until help came. It scratched my leg, but that isn’t enough to get cursed.” He shrugged. “Dad says I’m one of the luckiest people alive, to come out of a stare-down with a werewolf unharmed.”

Remus, meanwhile, was mentally hitting his head against the wall.  _ He climbed a tree! Why didn’t I think of that? I was in a bloody  _ forest _ and I didn’t think to climb a bloody  _ tree _ ! _

* * *

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and that night they had their first Astronomy lesson. The ancient witch who taught the subject, Professor Henig, limped up the steps to the Tower right at midnight. “Right,” she said briskly. “This is Astronomy. Hopefully you all know what we’ll do in this class.”

She walked up to the front of the assembled first years and took roll call quickly. Stowing away the class roster, she said, “Today will be an overview to see how much you all know about the night sky. Now! Can anyone tell me what kind of moon we have out here tonight?” Remus’ hand unconsciously shot into the air.

“Yes, mister...?”

“Lupin, Professor. It’s a waning gibbous.”

She nodded. “Very good! And how do you know that it’s waning?”

_ Because I transformed into a man-eating monster just less than a week ago _ , was the first answer that sprung to mind, but he realized that probably wouldn’t be the best thing to say. “Because it’s less lit on the right than on the left.”

She nodded again. “And do you happen to know how long a complete moon cycle is?”

“Twenty-nine days, professor.” He had counted down the days to the next full moon too many times.

The old lady beamed. “Excellent! Fifteen points to Gryffindor!” Remus grinned, and James gave him a thumbs-up.

“Now, does anyone know what the brightest star in the night sky is?”

Unsurprisingly, Sirius’ hand shot into the air.

“Yes, mister...?”

“Black,” Sirius grinned. “I believe the answer is Sirius.”

She nodded. “Five more points to Gryffindor!” He grinned some more.

Eager to win easy house points, other people’s hands shot into the air to answer her questions. By the time 1:30 rolled around and everyone was exhausted, Professor Henig beamed as she dismissed them.

“Well done, all of you! I’m glad to see you have a firm footing in this subject!”

* * *

All of the teachers were assembled in the staff room that Friday night; Dumbledore had called a meeting. He came striding in right on time with his deputy right behind him, and they both sat down.

“So...what do you think of the first years?”

This was a routine question asked every year after the first week of school. However, this time it had an extra meaning.

_ Who is it? _

“Now that I feel you have become acquainted with at least the basic personalities of each of your students, I hope that you will not judge this student simply for what he or she is. You must look deeper than the surface, as the Sorting Hat so kindly reminded us on Sunday.”

There were a few seconds during which everyone wondered if he would say more. They were very confused when he did not, and he elaborated, “I’d like you all to come to a conclusion of who this student is yourselves rather than me telling you.” Understanding dawned, and the room became full of noise. A list of the new students was found, and the teachers quickly began looking it over. Flitwick’s squeaky voice carried above the others’:

“Matthew, are you  _ mad _ ? Remus Lupin? Never in your wildest dreams!” They heard a scratch of a quill; evidently, Lupin’s name had been crossed off the list. Dumbledore smiled.

“Exactly what I was hoping for.”

McGonagall smiled slightly as she saw Matthew Neasce slump back in his chair, an annoyed look on his face. “He probably knows who it is," Dumbledore said quietly. “His lesson Tuesday was over Boggarts. If Mr Lupin tackled it, it would undoubtedly turn into a full moon.”

A few minutes later, the teachers looked up, triumphant looks on their faces. “It's Severus Snape, isn't it?”

McGonagall snorted. “No, it isn't.” Their faces fell. “And to narrow it down, this young man is  _ not  _ in Slytherin.”

The other teachers looked puzzled; apparently they had assumed he was in Slytherin. “And remember - this boy does not act like the stereotypical werewolf.”

Still very confused, the teachers cleared their list and began discussing again. Neasce again attempted to suggest Remus Lupin, but again he was shot down.

“Matthew, that boy wouldn't hurt a fly! What do you think you're going at?”

Finally they had reached another consensus. “James Potter?”

They shook their heads. “At this rate we'll be here all night,” McGonagall commented to Dumbledore. “Do you want to tell them?”

Dumbledore just smiled. “In a moment. I'm trying to get my point across.”

This time they had even less luck after guessing Aaron Killvian from Ravenclaw. “May I suggest that I tell you who this unfortunate student is?” Dumbledore asked. The teachers looked up at him expectantly. “What would you say if I told you that it is Remus Lupin?”

The room exploded with the teachers' denials. Filius toppled off the chair he was standing on. “Albus, you can't possibly be serious,” Horace Slughorn implored the headmaster. “Lupin, of all people—”

“I assure you that Mr Lupin is afflicted with lycanthropy. If you do not believe me, I suggest you look to see which of your students is ill and missing around the twenty-fifth of this month.” It was a clear dismissal.

Obviously disbelieving, the teachers left the staff room, talking to each other quietly. “Well, that went better than I could have hoped,” McGonagall said in relief.

Dumbledore shook his head. “They don't believe us. I think I will be getting quite an earful after they discover that a werewolf really is attending school here and that it is Mr Lupin.”

“Albus?” McGonagall asked, suddenly sounding disturbed. “I held him back after class on Monday and explained the procedure to him. He told me that he will miss more than one day of class because of his injuries. Is that true?”

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes downcast. “If he is locked up and alone, he will have nothing to hurt but himself. His sister has told me that he is a dreadful sight after the sun rises.”

“But is there any way for us to help? There has to be something...” Her heart went out to Remus Lupin.  _ Nobody deserves to go through that! _

“There is not. Potion masters have been trying for decades to find a cure, or at least something to help, but they have been unsuccessful.”

“There has to be something we could do, keep him company, or—”

“Unless you happen to be an Animagus, that is not possible.”

“I've already looked into becoming one," she said, looking determined. “I'll get started right away, then—”

“If you turn into too small of an animal, you will only put yourself in danger,” he warned her. “And I'm sure Mr Lupin does not want to put anyone else's life on the line.”

“Does he not realize that we're here to help him?”

“I'm not sure he does,” Dumbledore said sadly. “He has incredibly low self esteem. It's understandable, but such a shame.”


	14. Chapter 14

On Friday in the Gryffindor common room, the four first years sat in a corner, attempting to study. Well, Remus and Peter were doing homework. James and Sirius, on the other hand, were bent over a piece of parchment that looked suspiciously  _ not _ like homework.

“What are you guys doing?” Peter asked, apparently unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

“Oh, nothing,” Sirius said dismissively. Remus raised an eyebrow. Sirius sighed and motioned for them to come closer.

“What do you guys say about pulling a prank on the Slytherins?” James asked conspiratorially. Both of Remus' eyebrows went up this time.

“What kind of prank? We've hardly learned any magic!”

“But see, that's where you two come in. You can go to the library and research everything, and then we'll all work until we've figured out the spell!”

“What, doing extra work? I thought you guys would be the almighty slackers!”

Greta had appeared beside them, grinning slightly. James snatched their parchment out of her reach.

“Go away.”

“You don't know what I want yet,” she said, acting hurt. “I could be offering to help...”

“With your best friend a prefect?” James asked skeptically.

“Amelia has a sense of humor,” she assured them. “She lets a lot of things slide when it comes to me and Dorcas. So, what did you have in mind?”

After staring dumb-struck at her for a moment, Sirius and James began outlining their idea, which included spiking the Slytherins' food with a potion that would cause them to break out in to boils. This, apparently, was a relatively easy potion mentioned in their book.

“That's horrible!” Remus said in shock. “You can't do that!”

"Why not? It's not like it's lasting, and it'll only hurt a little...”

"No!”

“Well, you could do a variation on  _ Wingardium Leviosa. Y _ ou could delay the effects to make everything in the Great Hall float after everyone's there...” Greta said thoughtfully.

“Even better!” Sirius said happily, clapping her on the back. “That's a great idea! So...who's in?”

The four boys agreed, but Greta declined. “I'll let you four get the glory,” she said, winking at them. Then she added before she left, “Remus, you might want to write home if you haven't already. You know how Mum is.”

Remus jumped. “I think I'll do that now,” he said to his friends. “You guys can start, and I'll come down when I'm done.” He stood up, grabbed his bag and headed for the dormitory stairs.

“Wait! Why can't you write it down here?” Peter called after him. Remus just waved and disappeared up the stairs. The three of them stared at each other, and Sirius shrugged.

“He's a strange one.”

* * *

James, Sirius, and Peter sat in the common room, discussing not their prank but their friend. Peter stubbornly told the other two to drop it.

“Look, I know you’re worried and all, but I think he would tell us if he wanted us to know, if there _ is _ anything wrong.”

“But...I don’t know!” Sirius said in frustration. “Something’s off about him!”

“Like what? The fact that he’s way too bookworm-y?” James joked. “Look, I reckon Peter’s right. He’s shy.”

Sirius seemed incredibly disgruntled but dropped the subject. He lightened up considerably when the three of them began talking about their prank again, trying to find out exactly what the spell was that Greta had hinted at. Sirius perused the index of his Charms book, turning up with nothing. Finally, they decided they would wait for Remus and then tackle the library.

Peter pulled out his homework again, and James and Sirius struck up a lively conversation about Quidditch. After a while, however, they were all wondering the same thing:  _ What’s taking Remus so long? _

As they went up the dormitory stairs to find him, they ran into him as he was coming down. “Sorry,” Remus said, turning a bit pink. “It’s just, Mum’s a Muggle, so she likes to hear everything about magic.” He held up a long scroll of parchment. 

“Right,” Sirius said. “Well, we decided that we’re going to the library to look up that charm your sister told us about...”

He sighed. “You’re serious about this, then?”

“Of course we’re serious!” James said, looking highly affronted. Sirius’ face split into an enormous grin.

“Actually,  _ I’m _ the only one who’s Sirius,” he said jokingly. The other three stared at him for a moment before bursting into peals of laughter.

“That’s the  _ worst _ pun I’ve ever heard, Black,” James said, punching his arm lightly.

Sirius grinned. “I try.”

They made their way to the library and asked the librarian, Madame Pince, where they might find books about charms. Glaring at them suspiciously, she pointed to a section near the east side. They began grabbing books at random from the shelves and looking through the indexes.

After about half an hour of searching and complaining, James finally struck gold. “Here!” he said excitedly, pushing his book toward the center of the table and causing his friends to abandon theirs. “Look...”

* * *

At that moment, Alena Keen sat on her bed in the girls’ dormitory, writing a letter home to her parents:

_ Mum and Dad— _

_ Hogwarts is  amazing!  I’ve made it into Gryffindor—Dumbledore was in this house too, ages and ages ago. My roommates are cool—Lily Evans, Mary MacDonald and Danielle and Kristen Rudd. Lily and Mary are the best friends I could ever ask for—we all get along really great. Lily doesn’t know much about the magic world yet, she’s Muggleborn, but she’s catching on quick enough. Danielle and Kristen are triplets with another boy, Philip, but he’s in Ravenclaw. _

_ There’s only four boys in Gryffindor in our year, James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. Pettigrew and Lupin don’t seem too bad, but Potter and Black are a right pain in the you-know-where. They don’t pay attention in class or anything! _

_ Oh, Lupin said something odd to me the other day, at the opening feast: he asked if I had cousins named Jeff and Shawn. How would he have known that? And the weird thing is, his sister—she’s in sixth year—asked me the same thing. I’m just wondering if you know anyone by the name of Lupin, it’s been bothering me all week. _

_ Nothing else really exciting has happened here, just a bunch of homework. The classes are amazing, of course, but homework is horrible. _

_ I miss you! Please write back soon! _

_ Love, _

_ Alena _

* * *

That Saturday, the four boys had finally mastered the spell, and they prepared to put it to good use. One of the good things about the spell was that it activated on its own and required no wand work after its initial casting. The boys snuck into the empty Great Hall half an hour before dinner and began casting the spell on everything in sight. Only a few minutes after they had started, they had charmed everything in the Hall. Grinning at each other, the four of them quickly left the Hall to go outside to the grounds, where many students were enjoying the beautiful weather.

“D’you guys want to go take a look at that mad tree Dumbledore was talking about?” Sirius asked hopefully. Peter and James agreed heartily, and Remus had no choice but to follow them.  _ Is the tunnel hidden or in plain view? _

After giving the base of the tree a once-over from about twenty feet away, even he could not see any tunnels.  _ Good thing Madame Pomfrey’s coming with me. _

“Oi! James!” Sirius said, a glint in his eye. “I bet you five sickles you’re too chicken to try and touch the trunk!”

“No!” Remus said in alarm. The other three turned to stare at him. “You heard Professor Dumbledore—it’s really dangerous!”

“Come off it, Lupin,” James said impatiently. “Even if it clobbers me, the nurse’ll fix me in about five seconds.”

“Not if you get your skull crushed in!”

James ignored him and ran for the tree. As soon as he got within about ten feet of it, the branches came to life and took a swing at him. He yelped and ran back several feet, nursing his left shoulder.

“I told you,” Remus said, rather smug. James glared at him.

“Is your shoulder okay?” Peter asked, walking over to get a closer look. He poked it, and James winced. “Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing.”

“And miss our prank?”

“We’ll see if she’ll let you go in time for dinner,” Remus said. “And if she won’t, that’s a good alibi for all of us.”

Grumbling about stupid trees and stupid smart-ass friends, James allowed himself to be led to the Hospital Wing. Luckily for them, the matron was there.

“What happened to you?” she sped over to get a closer look at James’ shoulder. “That’s a nasty gash...”

James glared at his friends. “Got too close to that mad tree.”

Madame Pomfrey tutted, sent all four of them disapproving looks, and tapped James’ shoulder with her wand. The gash healed almost instantly. “Go on to dinner now—and don’t do that again!”

James muttered this thanks, and the four of them left the wing. “I’m surprised she didn’t make you stay or anything,” Sirius commented.

“It was just a cut,” Remus reminded him.

“ _ Just a cut _ ?”James was incredulous. “It almost ripped my arm off!”

“You couldn’t even see bone,” Peter said, shaking his head. “It’s healed now, so what does it matter? No harm done.”

James glared at all of them, then said to Sirius, “You owe me five sickles.”

* * *

They made it to the Great Hall with five minutes to spare before the spell took effect. Sitting down and acting like nothing was wrong, the four of them began digging into their dinner.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before they heard screaming from the other side of the Hall. Sure enough, the Slytherin table, food, students, and all, was slowly floating up in the air. One by one, the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables did as well. Finally, the teachers also began floating up to the ceiling. 

The Hall was in complete chaos—some people had tried to jump off their benches before the table got too high, but that left them floating in the air. That had been Remus’ addition: nobody could fall off the bench and hurt themselves.

Everyone was screaming and holding onto their table for dear life—everyone except the four boys. They realized their mistake too late as McGonagall began walking on air toward them.

“Did you do this?” she asked them in a deadly tone.

Remus was surprised that James and Sirius didn’t deny it. Instead, they both hung their heads in what seemed like shame. “We just wanted to celebrate everyone’s survival of the first week of school,” James said in a very sorrowful voice.

McGonagall glared at him disbelievingly. “Is that true, Mr Lupin?” she asked him, obviously thinking him the most trustworthy of the four. Remus thanked the heavens that he was an excellent liar and said with his best “I’m innocent” voice—

“Yes, Professor. Really, we had meant to just levitate the food, but I guess we went wrong somewhere. We didn’t mean any harm by it, really.” He gave her his huge sorrowful eyes that always seemed to work on adults.

Incredibly, McGonagall ate it right up, but he doubted that she would fall for his face again. “Fifteen points from Gryffindor,” she said sternly. “Don’t let it happen again.” She turned around and floated back to the staff table, pointing out the four boys to Dumbledore. Remus’ heart sank; they wouldn’t be expelled, would they? His parents would be so disappointed...

Sirius grinned at Remus as soon as McGonagall was out of earshot. “That was the  _ best _ lie I have  _ ever  _ heard,” he said excitedly. “You  _ must  _ teach me how to do that. And that  _ face— _ I can’t believe she fell for that!”

Twenty or so minutes later, all the tables began sinking back down to the ground. Everyone sighed in relief, but eventually they were laughing about it, agreeing that it was a rather good prank—for first years, at least. Gryffindors on either side of the four boys congratulated them. Even some of the Hufflepuffs at the next table over told them that they had done a good job.

One person who did not seem amused was Lily Evans. Though her friends were laughing heartily, she stalked down the table and began berating them.

“Potter! Black! How dare you do such a thing? You probably lost Gryffindor  _ tons _ of points and got yourselves detentions—”

“Actually, we lost fifteen and didn’t get any detention,” James said cheerfully.

“—that was completely irresponsible of the two of you! What if someone got hurt?”

“Oi! So Remus and Peter don’t get any credit?”

“Remus is  _ way _ too nice to pull such a prank, and don’t you remember Peter’s Boggart? This can’t have been his idea if he’s terrified of heights!”

“Actually, I think the credit for inspiration goes to me,” Greta chimed in from a few seats down. “I told them about the spell. And Remus isn’t  _ hardly _ the goody-two-shoes he pretends to be.” James, Sirius and Peter laughed and Lily scowled as Remus sighed exasperatedly.

“Thanks for blowing my cover!”

* * *

That night in the common room, the four were treated with a bit more respect than any first year should be. James, Sirius and Peter enjoyed the attention, but Remus was quite the opposite.

“Guys? I’m going up to the dorm,” he said, standing up. “See you later.”

As he walked up the steps, Sirius turned to James and Peter. “How could someone not like this?” he asked incredulously. “I swear, something’s off about that kid!”

“Look, Sirius,” Peter said with an air of great patience. “Remus is shy. Not everyone likes attention like you do.”

Grumbling but seeing that he was getting no support, Sirius did not pursue the subject.

* * *

Weekly flying lessons began the following Monday. The first years all headed out to the grounds after History.

“Everyone to a broom!” the young teacher, Madame Hooch, barked. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter quickly found four adjacent brooms. “All right—everyone put your hand over your broom and say ‘up!’”

All of the students did so, but only a few people’s brooms did anything. James’ broom was in his hand. Remus tried again; much to his surprise, his broom jumped to his hand as well.

“Bet you’re not a bad flyer,” James said, grinning at him.

“I haven’t flown in five years!”

“Mount your brooms,” Madame Hooch said after nearly everyone had gotten their broom to jump into their hand. “I’ll come around to make sure you have the correct grip. Do  _ not _ push off the ground.”

Everyone got onto their brooms, and Hooch went up and down the rows, checking to make sure everyone was handling the brooms correctly. Peter looked terrified at this point, and Remus could see why; if he didn’t like heights, flying was definitely not something he would want to do.

“Now, on my whistle, kick off gently and go a few feet into the air—no more. Then point your broom down a bit to come back down.”

Everyone did as they were told with no incident, though Remus noticed that many people seemed frightened out of their wits. “Excellent,” Hooch said, looking pleased. “Now, kick off and stay a few feet in the air. You can fly around a bit if you’d like, but nothing fancy.” She blew her whistle again, and everyone flew into the air. 

James floated around the other students, many of whom were clutching their broom for dear life, obviously wishing it would be over.

Remus was quite comfortable on his broom; it reminded him of carefree times years before. He floated around like James and a few others until Madame Hooch blew her whistle, and everyone landed on the ground again. Many people, including Peter and Lily Evans, were shaking visibly.

“Good job today, everyone! Next class we’ll be going a bit higher up, but that’s it for today!”

Everyone ran to pick up their bag from the mess on the ground and began heading back to the castle. “See, I told you you wouldn’t be a bad flyer!” James said to Remus, looking pleased with himself.

Remus shrugged. “I guess it’s one of those things you never really forget.”

* * *

Remus received a reply from his parents a few days later, and waited until he had a moment alone to read it.

_Remus,_

_Congratulations on getting into Gryffindor and making friends! We knew you wouldn’t be able to stay by yourself._

_We’re also glad that you are enjoying and doing well in your classes. Your father went to school with Minerva McGonagall, apparently, and thought her very competent. You are obviously in good hands in her house. And remember, if any of the teachers give you any trouble, tell either us or Professor Dumbledore._

_I wouldn’t worry too much about Alena Keen. That family—aside from those two boys—seemed very kind, and even if she does find out and creates a ruckus, Dumbledore promised he would charm everyone’s memories away. You have nothing to worry about!_

_About your friends, James and Sirius and Peter, stick with them for as long as they will stick with you. If they are true friends, they will accept you no matter what, even if they find out about your condition. Your father has only praise for the Potter family, and if Sirius is as different from his family as you describe him to be, there shouldn’t be a problem with him either._

_Trust Dumbledore’s judgment about the teachers. If they do not know about you, then he must have a reason for not telling them. Dumbledore is a wonderful wizard and always has a reason for everything._

_For your excuses, the most logical would be to say that you’re sick, but don’t overuse it. You could say that I’m sick instead and you have to come visit me. But I suppose Greta would still be at school? I think that would be a good excuse, though, so perhaps you could use that, then make something up as to why Greta doesn’t come home as well._

_Remember—have fun at that school! Of course, keep up with your school work and such, but half of going to Hogwarts is learning about how to live!_

_All our love,_

_Mum and Dad_

* * *

Later that week, Alena Keen also received a startling letter from her parents. Among other things, her mother wrote—

_ ...If I remember correctly, Remus Lupin was the name of the werewolf your cousins scared off in the hospital. For all I know there could be another Remus Lupin running around, but it’s rather doubtful that a different one knows of Jeff and Shawn. _

_ The full moon’s on the night of the 25 _ _ th _ _ this month, so keep your eyes open. Even if this Remus Lupin turns out to be a werewolf, I trust your judgment. During the time we knew him at St. Mungo’s, he was a sweet boy, and he doesn’t seem to have changed. If Dumbledore trusts him enough to let him go to school, you must trust the Headmaster. _

Alena was shocked beyond words.  _ Remus, a werewolf?  _ That could not possibly be right...werewolves were supposed to be locked up, not at Hogwarts! She decided to wait until the 25 th to see whether he disappeared or not.

_ Merlin—a werewolf! _

* * *

The next day during breakfast, a pitch-black screech owl flew down to the Gryffindor table and landed directly in front of Sirius. “Oh, bloody hell,” he muttered as he untied the smoking red envelope from the bird’s leg.

“Better open it,” James advised him. “Get it over with.”

Everyone in the vicinity covered their ears in anticipation of the Howler’s deafening noise. They were not disappointed; Mrs Black’s screeching voice filled the hall—

“SIRIUS BLACK! HOW DARE YOU BE SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR? YOU HAVE FAILED TO UPHOLD THE FAMILY HONOR AND HAVE BROGHT DISGRACE TO THE NAME OF BLACK! NOT ONLY THAT, BUT YOU HAVE SET A HORRIBLE EXAMPLE FOR REGULUS! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE EXTREMELY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU! DO  _ NOT _ COME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS OR EASTER! I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE UNTIL SUMMER VACATION BEGINS!”

The Howler grumbled itself into silence and eventually self-combusted on the table, scattering ashes all over Sirius’ eggs.

“Well, that’s excellent then!” Sirius said in a would-be-cheerful voice into the awkward silence of the Hall. “I won’t have to see the old hag until June!”

A few people laughed nervously, and everyone eventually returned to their meals. Sirius, meanwhile, pushed his plate aside and buried his head in his arms.

“Merlin, that was so embarrassing.”

“But, like you said, you won’t have to see her until June,” Peter said, trying to be optimistic. Sirius snorted.

“Excellent! So I get to stay here over breaks while everyone else gets to go home to their mummies and daddies! Just bloody  _ great _ !”

“Who said you’re staying here? You’re coming home with one of us!” James said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sirius’ head shot up.

“Really? Your parents won’t mind?”

“’Course not. We’re all friends, right? We can drive our parents mad, all four of us—this’ll be great...”

Sirius, temporarily forgetting about his family problems, dove right into the conversation. Remus glanced a little bit down to where Greta was sitting with Amelia and Dorcas. She seemed to be conflicted about something, but finally seemed to come to a conclusion. She stood up and walked down the table to stand behind Sirius.

“Er...Sirius?”

“Yeah?” he turned around the face her.

“I just wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been treating you for the past week. I didn’t realize you were so different from your mum, and, well...” she trailed off, but Sirius understood.

“No problem. New start, eh?” 

Greta nodded, obviously relieved he was taking it so well. “Thanks,” she said, and walked back to her seat.

“Well, this is brilliant!” Sirius said, grinning. “My mate’s protective older sister doesn’t hate me anymore!”

Remus grinned too. “Yeah, sorry about that. I can’t help it, you know.”

Sirius shrugged. “It’s okay. Older siblings are like that. Or, older siblings who care about their younger ones.” He scowled for a moment, but then apparently decided to stop thinking of his family entirely, because then he said, “So...what should we do for our next prank?”


	15. Chapter 15

Two weeks passed.

Remus was rather nervous; it was suddenly Monday the 23 rd , and he and Greta had still not worked out exactly what they were going to say to cover up his absence. Finally, they decided they would use the “sick” excuse as much as possible, combined with saying their mother was ill.

“You always look like hell anyway, so that’s easy to believe,” Greta had assured him. “And we’ve both become excellent liars, so we have nothing to worry about.”

That was true, Remus admitted to himself. He seemed to become one of the designated cover story makers of the four boys; he and Peter could both lie point-blank to almost any adult and get away with it.

“Okay.”

She clapped him on the back. “Anything else?”

“Headache tonic?”

She grimaced. “You want to come with me or should I bring one back?”

“I’ll come.”

“Oi! Remus!” James called from a few tables over as they stood up. “Where’re you going?”

“Hospital Wing for my headache.” His friends winced in sympathy and waved good-bye. Remus waved back and crawled out of the portrait hole behind his sister. Once they got to the Hospital Wing, they saw Madame Pomfrey bent over a bed at the other end of the Infirmary with what looked like half-octopus, half-girl on it.

“Just a moment,” she called over her shoulder, so they sat down and waited until she was done fussing over the other girl.

“Oh my goodness!” the nurse said a minute later, rushing over. She apparently had just realized who they were. “Is it time already? I thought it was Wednesday night—”

“It is,” Remus assured her. “Just a headache tonic, please.”

“Of course, of course . . . “ she rushed over to a cabinet and pulled out a potion, measuring some out and pouring it into a goblet. “Drink up. Now, I assume Minerva has told you what is going to happen on Wednesday,” she directed at Remus, in an undertone so the other girl would not hear. He nodded and began drinking the potion. “She also told me that you will be unconscious for quite a while afterward—”

“Usually all day,” Remus nodded.

“And that you’ll be quite a mess in the morning—” he nodded again, “—and that you’ll need immediate attention.”

“Unless you want me to bleed to death.”

Madame Pomfrey seemed shocked at his rather morbid sense of humor. “Well, you’ll be top priority Thursday,” she promised. “Do you feel any better?”

“Headache’s nearly gone,” he said. “Thanks.”

“Have you two thought of an excuse to use? People will begin to wonder where you go...” the nurse said thoughtfully.

“We’re not entirely sure yet,” Greta said. “We’ll tell you Wednesday.”

The matron nodded. “So I’ll see you then,” she said as the two of them stood up. Remus grimaced and headed toward the door.

* * *

On Tuesday, all of Remus’ teachers asked him if he wanted to be excused to the Hospital Wing. He declined, though his head was pounding all day. He went to get another headache tonic during lunch. Madame Pomfrey also tutted over his sickly appearance as she poured it out and warned that he would not be able to have another one the next day.

Even his friends noticed that he was more quiet than normal. Remus had always thought them to be rather oblivious, but they offered to escort him to the Hospital Wing multiple times. Remus was getting irritated; he felt sick, sure, but it wasn’t something he hadn’t dealt with before. Finally getting fed up with their constant mothering, he said,

“Look guys, I’m fine. I’m just worried about my mum.” He added the last sentence as an afterthought and immediately wished to retract it. He and Greta had not worked out the problems in their lie yet, and he was straying into unsafe territory by elaborating.

“What’s wrong with her?” James asked, immediately sympathetic. “Is she ill?”

“Yeah. I think I’m going home in a few days to see her.”

“How long will you guys be gone then?”

Remus felt like kicking himself. This was one of the things the two of them had not been able to come up with an excuse for. “No, I think it's just me.”

“But if she’s that sick, why wouldn’t she go too?” Peter asked, confused.

“Because...well, Dad needs to make a potion with a matching blood type in it,” he invented wildly, hoping it was a convincing lie. “Since I’m the only one in the family that matches, I need to go home. She’s been sick for forever, and it’s hardly ever gotten really bad.”

“But—”

“Look, I really don’t like talking about it. I’ll be there a couple days and then come back. Greta will come if it gets worse. That’s it. Just please stop asking about it.”

And they did.

* * *

That night was Astronomy class, and Remus could barely keep his eyes open as they headed to the Astronomy Tower. Though he tried to hide it, it was obvious to his friends that he was exhausted.

“Oooh, look!” Lily Evans said excitedly, pointing up at the sky. “It’s a full moon tonight!”

The entire class tilted their heads back to admire the night sky. “Actually, the moon is not quite full, Miss Evans,” Professor Henig corrected her. “Though it looks round, there is a small sliver on the left that is unlit tonight. Tomorrow night is the true full moon.” Remus gave an involuntary shiver.

“What, scared of the werewolves?” Sirius joked in an undertone. James glared at him.

“That’s nothing to laugh about!”

Sirius did not have time to reply to him before Professor Henig shushed them and began class. Remus slipped in and out of sleep during the hour and a half. James, Sirius, and Peter noticed this and began taking notes, quite contrary to their natures. Remus was very grateful, and told them so after class.

“Hey, what are friends for?” Peter asked quite seriously. “And if you’re leaving tomorrow, you’ll need us to take notes then too.”

Remus smiled weakly. “Thanks, guys.”

* * *

The next morning dawned far too bright and far too early. Remus groaned and rolled over when Sirius opened the curtains around his bed.

“Rise and sh—Merlin!” the dark-haired boy stopped himself immediately when he saw the state of his friend. “You look like hell! You’re sure  _ you _ haven’t caught something?”

“I’ll be okay,” Remus said, irritated. He sat up slowly.

“You’re not going to class today,” Sirius said, ignoring his bad mood completely. “I’m bringing you to Madame Pomfrey—you can’t go to class like this!”

“Yes I—”

“Nope! You’re coming with me. You can’t get better if you’re working—c’mon! Pomfrey’ll have something to help. And don’t you have to go home anyway?”

Too tired to argue and trying desperately to keep his head clear enough so he did not contradict his story, Remus allowed himself to be pulled out of bed. “At least let me get dressed,” he grumbled.

“Right. Well, you know where your trunk is, don’t you?”

Glaring at his friend, Remus walked over to his trunk and pulled out a uniform. Only after ten or fifteen seconds of trying to pull his pants on over his head did Sirius finally take pity on him and inform him of what he was doing. Remus sheepishly finished getting dressed after requesting that Sirius turn his back, and the two of them went down to the common room and out the portrait hole.

“Why’re you so modest like that?” Sirius asked curiously. Remus shrugged, avoiding the question.

“Where’re James and Peter?” Remus asked after a while.

“Probably on their way to Potions now. It’s nearly eleven o’clock.”

“Eleven? I’ve already missed our first class—”

“We had Astronomy last night, remember?” Sirius asked, looking at him strangely. “We don’t have a class until eleven.”

“Still, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“’Cause you looked like hell yesterday, and we wanted to let you sleep as long as possible. Anyway, don’t freak out about missing classes, because we’ll take notes for you so you don’t get behind.”

They finally arrived at the Hospital Wing. “Get to class—I don’t want to be the reason for your detention,” Remus said. Sirius waved and took off down the corridor. Remus pushed open the door slowly and let himself into the Infirmary.

“My goodness, Mr Lupin, you look terrible!” Madame Pomfrey said as she led him down to a bed at the other end of the ward.

He grumbled incoherently and sat down on the bed she indicated. “I came up with a cover story,” he said in an undertone, and explained to her what he had told his friends. Madame Pomfrey nodded in approval.

“You really can think on your feet, can’t you?”

“I have to.”

Apparently not quite sure how to answer that, the matron hurried to a cabinet and came back with a purple potion. “This is a weaker Dreamless Sleep Potion,” she told him, pouring some out. “You’ll wake up in an hour or two for lunch.”

Remus accepted the potion, drank it, and thankfully fell asleep again within a few seconds.

* * *

The bell rang just as Sirius was descending the stairs to the dungeons. He hurried down the corridor and arrived only fifteen seconds late.

“So nice of you to join us,” Slughorn said dryly. “Might I ask where Mr Lupus is?”

“In the Hospital Wing,” Sirius said shortly, annoyed that Slughorn couldn’t even get Remus’ name right. “He’s sick.”

Slughorn looked rather nervous for some reason, but said, “Very well. Tell him I expect the assignment as soon as he is well.”

Sirius nodded curtly and took his assigned seat next to Snape. He was very glad that they would be allowed to choose their seats starting the next week. The Slytherin sneered as they began their potion.

“Aww, does Lupin have the sniffles? Such a pity. Maybe nothing will blow up this class—”

“Shut your mouth, Snivellus,” Sirius snapped. “If you felt half as bad as Remus looked, you’d probably wet yourself.” He began chopping roots for the potion with a bit more force than was necessary.

“So you’re not having second thoughts about being a mad Gryffindor?” Snape continued to tease.

“Not at all. It’s much better than being a slimy Slytherin,” he answered, pushing the roots into the cauldron. 

Nothing else interesting happened until near the end of class, when an explosion from the other side of the dungeon made everyone jump; Sirius was pleased to see that Snape looked absolutely terrified.

“POTTER!”

Lily Evans was on her feet, glaring down at James, who was grinning up at her. Both of them were bright green from head to toe. “Yeah, Evans?”

“Mr Potter, did you do this?” Slughorn asked, sounding not quite annoyed, but curious. It was apparent that he wanted to think the best of both of his students.

“It was an accident, Professor,” James said innocently. “I must have bumped the beetle eyes in before the newt tail by mistake, and it exploded.”

“That’s not true!” Lily all but yelled, nearly hysterical. “He did it on purpose!”

Sirius’ heart sank. Though Slughorn liked James a lot—Sirius suspected that it was because of his impressive bloodline—nobody in his right mind would believe James Potter over Lily Evans.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter,” Slughorn said reprovingly, though he looked reluctant to dock them. “If it happens again, it will be detention.” James nodded in mock contrition, but as soon as the professor’s back was turned he grinned in success. Lily scowled but had no time to argue before Slughorn told everyone to get tidied up and bring him their potions. Lily glared at James as they cleaned up the cauldron and table, but there was nothing they could do about their new coloring.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad, Evans!” James assured her as the bell rang and they made their way to lunch. “Matches your eyes, you know. Maybe you should make it permanent.”

Lily glared at him some more and hurried to catch up with Severus and her Gryffindor friends. Alena, however, slowed down a bit to talk with the boys.

“Where’s Remus?” she asked curiously.

“Hospital Wing, like I told Slughorn,” Sirius said impatiently. “He looked like hell so I took him there before class.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Dunno exactly.”

* * *

Greta glanced up at the Great Hall doors as she sat at the Gryffindor table. Dorcas and Amelia had not yet arrived from Runes. She saw first years filtering in from the dungeons.  _ There’s James, Sirius, Peter...where’s Remus? _ She doubted very much that he would have allowed himself to be dragged to the Hospital Wing this early...

“Where’s Remus?” she asked as they passed by her seat, barely registering James’ new skin color.

“He’s in the Hospital Wing,” Sirius answered. “He looked horrible, so I brought him there before class.”

Greta thanked them, and they continued down the table in search of seats. She finished her lunch quickly and sped out of the Hall even before her friends arrived. She barged into the Hospital Wing loudly, startling Madame Pomfrey.

“Goodness, must you be so—oh, it’s you!” the nurse’s expression softened when she realized who she was. “Remus is in the last bed on the left, poor dear...he’s sleeping now.”

“Do you know anything about his new cover story?” Greta asked.

“Yes, he told me this morning...” and she explained what Remus had come up with. Greta was impressed—he had been able to improvise very well.

She sped to the indicated bed. Coincidentally, her brother woke up at around the same time she sat down.

“You all right?” she asked quietly, knowing perfectly well he could hear her like a foghorn and that he most certainly was not.

He shrugged. “Sirius dragged me here. Probably would’ve passed out from the stink in class anyway.” He scowled. “You reckon anyone’s told Slughorn to clean his room?”

“I reckon you’re probably the only one who smells anything,” she said honestly. He just grunted in reply, but then sat up a little and turned toward the doorway. Greta could hear nothing, but trusted Remus’ ears and turned as well.

The door was slightly ajar, and Madame Pomfrey was blocking the space so whoever was outside couldn’t come in. Greta could now hear voices talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Remus apparently could, however, and he listened intently to the conversation at the other end of the long ward.

“S’all right,” he yelled out suddenly, startling both Greta and Madame Pomfrey. She turned around and started at him a moment before turning back to the door and allowing three figures into the ward. One was bright green.

Greta was a bit apprehensive. “Are you sure you want to talk to—”

“It’ll be worse if I don’t,” Remus said shortly, and shushed her as the three boys arrived at his bed.

“You look like hell,” Sirius said as greeting, looking very concerned.

“When are you going to go back to your house? Is it safe to travel when you’re sick like this?” James asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Remus assured them, rather irritated. “I’ll probably leave soon.” His eyes glanced over his friends, and he did a double take when he saw James.

“What happened?”

“You’ve just noticed it now?” James laughed. Remus glared, and he continued hastily. “I blew up our potion and now me and Evans are green. Should last a few days. Cool, huh?” He stretched a hand out in front of his face, admiring his new coloring.

“Why’re you so mean to everyone?”

James shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not  _ everyone _ , just people I don’t like. Evans is such a teacher’s pet, and of course the Slytherins are  _ Slytherins _ . It’s fun to knock them down a bit.”

“I think you need some knocking down as well,” Sirius said, half jokingly, pushing James slightly.

Peter laughed. “Like you don’t, Black!”

The three of them started a rather loud mock argument, and Remus groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. “Guys!” Greta said sharply. They stopped, and she continued in a quieter voice, “Remus has a headache. You’re not helping.”

“Er...right. Sorry, mate,” Sirius said, looking apologetic.

“S’okay,” Remus’ muffled voice came from under the pillow. “Lemme sleep.”

“Well, he’ll be home for a few days,” Greta told his friends. “He’ll come back when Mum’s a bit better.”

Three of them began walking down the ward. Remus pulled his head out from under the pillow and glared a bit at Greta.

“Lemme sleep,” he repeated crossly.

“I’m not doing anything to annoy you!” she said in an undertone. “Anyway, I can’t leave now, remember? Your friends think I’m seeing you home. Let me wait a while.”

Grumbling incoherently, Remus rolled over and fell asleep again.

* * *

Finally, Greta deemed that enough time had gone by, and she left the Wing to meet up with her friends before Charms.

“Where were you?” Dorcas asked immediately upon her arrival in the classroom.

“Hospital Wing. Remus’s sick.”  _ At least it’s partly true _ . she hated lying to her friends, but Remus’ safety was more important.

“Will he be okay?” Amelia asked, very concerned.

“Madame Pomfrey said he’ll be fine in a couple of days. He just caught something.”


	16. Chapter 16

Finally, the time came when Remus had to go out to the Willow. Madame Pomfrey gently shook him awake and led him out of the ward. Remus noticed rather detachedly that they went right through a solid wall opposite the Hospital Wing entrance and ended up in the Entrance Hall.

“Watch closely,” the nurse said as they walked across the grounds toward the Whomping Willow, which began flailing wildly. Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, she picked up a long stick and pushed a knot at the base of the tree. It froze immediately, not even swaying in the wind.

“In you go,” she said kindly, escorting him down a well-camouflaged hole.

The two walked in silence down the long tunnel. After about ten minutes, Remus began to get nervous. The sun was going to set in less than an hour! Even if the moon didn’t rise for a while afterward, it was better to be secured as a human than loose as a wolf.

“We there yet?” he asked impatiently.

“Nearly.” Soon enough, the tunnel began to rise, and Remus saw a glimmer of light. “There’s no door?” he asked in horror.

“There’s a trap door I’ll charm closed on my way out,” Madame Pomfrey told him patiently. “You won’t be able to open it when you’re transformed.”

He just grunted in reply and pulled himself up into the house through the hole. However, his eyes widened and he looked back, horrified, at the nurse. “Why’s it such a nice house? I’ll wreck it! You don’t get it! I’m not worth—”

“Mr Lupin,” she interrupted him. “This house has been uninhabited for years. Nobody comes up here anymore. It’s  _ yours _ .”

This did not alleviate his alarm in the slightest. “You don’t  _ get _ it! There’s so much nice stuff! I shouldn’t be here!”

“They’re  _ yours _ ,” she repeated patiently. “They’re not mine, or Albus’, or anyone else’s. You hurt yourself a bit less when you have other things to attack, according to your sister.”

“You don’t—”

“Okay, I don’t understand exactly what you’re getting at,” the nurse conceded. “But there’s nothing you can do about it now. After you’re patched up you can go talk to Albus about it, okay?”

He glared at her but grunted in what must have been affirmation. “Good. Now, let’s find a bedroom so you can lay down. You’ll have a little bit of time after the sun sets and before the moon rises, so maybe you can catch a bit of sleep.”

Deciding not to tell her that he would never be able to get to sleep with the shooting pain beginning to go up and down his spine, Remus followed her through the rooms with a bit of difficulty. Eventually he found himself on a four-poster bed, undressed to his underwear with Madame Pomfrey fussing over him.

“M’fine,” he said crossly. “Go.”

“Are you sure—”

“Go! Sun’s almost down,” he reminded her. She glanced out the window and saw that he was right. As soon as the moon rose, she knew, any person left in the house would be Remus’ dinner.

“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” she promised, and then added, “Good luck.”

* * *

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!”

Two boys—one couldn’t have been older than six, and the other seemed to be nearing Hogwarts age—dashed off the front lawn of their house in Hogsmeade and inside their house. “Can we play more after dinner, Mummy?” the smaller asked hopefully.

“Maybe inside. It’s getting dark.”

He pouted. “Why?”

“Because if you’re outside, the big scary werewolves will come and eat you!” his older brother teased. He blanched and inched closer to his mother.

“You won’t let them eat me, will you?” he asked in fear.

She patted his head reassuringly. “Of course not, dear. We always charm the door at night. Just don’t go running around outside tonight, okay?”

Reassured, he nodded and ran off to the kitchen. “You know not to frighten him like that,” their mother added to the elder boy. He just rolled his eyes.

After dinner, they all were cleaning up when a distant scream startled them. Everyone spun around to look at each other, but could find no source for the sudden noise. The screams continued for a minute or so but gradually changed to howls, then quieted down again.

“Mummy, what—”

“Go up to your rooms,” their father said in as calm of a voice as he could manage. The two ran up the stairs quickly.

“Hey! You there?”

The man ran into the den, where the head of one of his neighbors, Mitch King, looked up at him in concern. “You guys all right?”

“We’re fine. Don’t know what the hell that was all about.”

“I dunno either. Don’t want to go outside to check, with the full moon and all. I was going out, but Becca reminded me about it. Good thing, eh?”

Just then, another howl disrupted their conversation. “Maybe it’s some sort of ghost or poltergeist. It sounds like it’s coming from that big empty house,” he mused, glancing out the window in the general direction of the noise.

“That’s an idea,” Mitch agreed. “That’s probably what it is. Let’s see what everyone thinks tomorrow.”

* * *

After Madame Pomfrey returned from bringing Remus to the safehouse, she could not sit still. That calm, kind boy was a  _ werewolf _ ! It just wasn’t fair! 

She tried to get some sleep that night, but found it impossible. She resorted to getting everything ready for the first light of dawn, cleaning Remus’ robes, setting them by the last bed in the ward and getting her healing potions and ointments out. After that, she could do nothing but wait.

As the sun was rising and just as she was preparing to leave, the door slammed open and a bathrobe-clad Greta Lupin ran into the ward with bloodshot eyes. “What are you waiting for?” she asked accusingly. “Go get him!”

“I was just going,” she replied truthfully.

“Well, hurry up! He’s probably half changed back by now!”

Madame Pomfrey quickly left the Infirmary and headed out to the Whomping Willow. She ran down the tunnel and reached the house quickly. The first thing she noticed was that half of the stairs’ banister was knocked clean off and was lying in splinters on the floor. Trying not to think that Remus had done that, she continued through the house in search of him.

She was astounded at the amount of destroyed furniture and the size of the bloody paw prints, and quickened her pace. If he died, she would never forgive herself...

She eventually found him, lying out cold in the middle of the drawing room. It was all she could do not to scream; though she was a Healer, it was not every day she saw someone in his shape and still alive. She quickly levitated his still form onto a stretcher, covered him with a blanket, and brought him back to the castle, thanking Merlin no students were up yet to see them.

As soon as she opened the door to the Hospital Wing and took off the blanket, Greta ran over. “Oh, thank Merlin,” she said, her face relaxing a bit.

“This is  _ better _ than normal?”

She nodded. “You can still tell what color his skin is, can’t you?” 

They quickly brought him down to the farthest bed, and Madame Pomfrey started siphoning off the blood. The wounds were still bleeding profusely, so she picked up her potions and bandages and got to work.

After she was finished bandaging Remus, Madame Pomfrey carefully dressed him in a set of pajamas, cleaned all the blood off the sheets and pulled the covers up to his chin. “Do you have a quill and parchment?” Greta asked. “I’d like to write Mum and Dad.”

“Of course!” Within a few moments she was in and out of her office, quill, ink, and parchment in hand. Thanking her, Greta wrote:

_ Mum and Dad— _

_ Remus will be okay. He actually looks better than he normally does—that might be because the house is bigger than our basement, so he has more room to run around. I don’t know. I’ll have him write when he’s well enough. He’s still out right now. _

_ Love you! _

_ \--Greta _

“I’ll be right back,” she promised. “Let me send this.” She ran out of the ward in the direction of the Owlery. She did not expect to run into another student there so early.

“ _ Peter? _ ”

“Sorry, I was just sending a letter to Mum.” He made a face. “She told me to tell her  _ everything _ . She went here, so what’s the point?” Greta laughed.

“That’s what I’m doing too. Going to check and see how Mum’s doing.”

“Do you know anything?” he asked her quickly. “Did Remus get there okay?”

“Well, from what I heard from Dad, she’ll be okay as soon as he makes the potion. Mum’s strong. Remus got there fine, and Dad says that so far it’s no worse than normal.”

“What does she have?”

“I can never remember the name...it’s really long and complicated,” Greta lied. Peter asked no more questions, and they sent their owls off in separate directions. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” Greta said, going back in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, planning to double back to the Hospital Wing. Peter turned the other way, headed for breakfast.

Greta returned to the Infirmary to find Madame Pomfrey arguing with an irate Alena Keen at the door. “Mr Lupin is not here,” she told Alena crossly. “His mother is ill, and he is home with her!”

“Oh, bloody hell!” Alena turned around angrily and came face-to-face with Greta. She scowled at her. “Can’t you tell her to let me go in and see Remus?”

Greta tried her best to look confused. “He’s not in there...he’s at home.”

“Why did he go home but you didn’t?” she challenged.

“Because Dad needs to use his blood for a potion. There’s no reason for me to be there.”

She scowled again and finally left. Madame Pomfrey looked very worried as Greta walked in and shut the door. “How could she know? It’s only been one month!”

“She met him at the hospital right after he was bitten.”

Before Madame Pomfrey could reply, the door swung open again, and Professor McGonagall came in. “Where is he, Poppy?” she asked urgently. “How is he doing?” Though she was dressed, her hair was down and her glasses were askew.

“He’s in the last bed on the left. He’ll be fine.”

McGonagall made a beeline for the indicated bed, and the others followed her. “My goodness! This is worse than normal?” she nearly pleaded with Greta. She shook her head.

“It’s better. Probably because that house gives him more room to run around.”

The Transfiguration professor sat down heavily on the nearest unoccupied bed. “Every month...” she muttered to herself.

“He’ll be fine,” Greta assured her. “He’s been living with this for five years.”

She nodded, more to herself than to anyone else. “When will he wake up?” she asked Greta.

“Sometime this afternoon. Stop worrying, Professor, okay? He’ll be fine.”

“And when did you say he’ll be let out of here?”

“Probably late tomorrow. No, really,” she added as McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up. “He heals quickly.”

The professor shook her head. “If  _ anyone _ says anything about him not being in class...” she stood up. “You and your brother are two of the bravest people I know, Miss Lupin,” she said, and it looked like she meant it. “Tell him when he wakes up that I hope he feels better quickly.”

Greta nodded, and the professor left the ward. “I’ve never seen her that sentimental,” Greta commented to Madame Pomfrey.

“Minerva’s very protective of her students. She just doesn’t always show it.”

* * *

The next day, Remus was released as promised in time for dinner. He had wanted to leave a few hours earlier in order to speak to Professor Dumbledore, but Madame Pomfrey did not allow it.

“You’re  _ sure _ you’re all right?” she asked him worriedly as he prepared to leave.

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” he assured her. “Let me go! I’ve already missed three days!”

“Come back if you don’t feel well,” she continued. “If you feel ill at  _ all _ —”

“I feel like it’s new moon already,” he assured her. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“That’s what I’m here for! Now, remember, if you feel sick—”

Remus waved, cutting her off, and left the Hospital Wing. He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the door was closed. He was very glad that Madame Pomfrey took such good care of him, but she could be very overbearing. 

He headed through the shortcut that she had shown him and entered the Great Hall quickly. James, whose skin had returned to its natural color, spotted him and he passed the Ravenclaw table and yelled out,

“Oi! Remus! Over here!”

Remus found his way down the table to where his friends were sitting with an empty seat. “It’s a good thing you came back,” Peter said, “James and Sirius had a great big plan to break you out of your house.”

“It was bloody amazing, too,” Sirius said.

“Involved twenty dungbombs—”

“—A few pixies—”

Remus watched the tennis match that was Sirius and James, and felt a headache forming. The two had developed an annoying habit of finishing each other’s sentences, and Remus suspected they did it solely to annoy people.

“You could have just come and  _ asked _ if I could come back,” Remus suggested, grinning a bit.

“But what’s the fun in that?”

* * *

Minerva had kept an eye on the Great Hall doors ever since dinner had started, waiting for Remus Lupin to appear. When he did, she was surprised at how  _ well _ he looked. The only things that let on that he had been through Hell and back were his pale face and his slightly unsteady steps to the Gryffindor table.

“Lupus’ back,” Horace commented. Apparently he had been watching for him too. “About time.”

Minerva turned to him angrily. “It’s  _ Lupin. _ And why don’t you go check in on him first thing after he’s back next month; then say ‘about time.’”

Horace raised an eyebrow. “He can’t have been that bad!”

“His sister said that it was a good month. When I went to see him, you could hardly see him for the bandages.”

He laughed heartily. “Surely you’re exaggerating—”

“I am not. You can ask Poppy if you’d like, or Miss Lupin. Or you could ask the boy himself.”

* * *

After dinner, Remus caught Dumbledore as he was leaving the Great Hall, telling his friends that the Headmaster wanted to ask him how his trip had been. It was a flimsy excuse, he knew, but he had no time to think of a better one.

“Ah, Mr Lupin! Are you feeling better?”

“I’m feeling fine, sir,” he said quietly, hoping his friends—several steps ahead of them—had not heard Dumbledore’s query. “Could we talk—er—in your office?”

“Certainly,” the Professor said cordially. Soon after, Remus found himself in a chair opposite Dumbledore, sucking on a lemon drop as the professor put his bag of candy away. “Now, Mr Lupin, what do you need?”

“Why am I transforming in such a nice house?” Remus blurted out quickly. “I’ll wreck it, even more than I have already!”

“Poppy said you’d come about this,” Dumbledore chuckled. “My answer is the same as hers: that house is  _ yours _ . It doesn’t belong to anyone else, and with any luck, everyone in Hogsmeade will be too scared to go near it after another month or so.”

“What do you mean?” he asked in alarm. “You’re not going to tell them I’m in there, are you?”

“Of course not. What I meant was that your screams and howls carried through the entire village. I planted the theory in the Three Broomsticks last night that there were angry spirits which go the house to terrorize Hogsmeade, and guessing from the reaction my story got, I doubt anyone will try to break in.”

“But sir—the furniture—all those nice things—”

“Those have been there for decades. I left them in the hopes that you would tear them apart rather than yourself.”

Remus saw that there was no arguing with the Headmaster, but he was still uncomfortable with the situation. “I just don’t like ruining things,” he said softly. “It makes me feel even more like a monster.”

“Mr Lupin, you are one of the kindest, most mature first years Hogwarts has seen in a long time,” Dumbledore said sternly. “You are merely a boy who happens to have an unfortunate illness.” He stood up. “I trust you will not feel guilty any more about the house?”

Hesitating a second, Remus shook his head. “No, sir.”

* * *

Alena Keen decided that night that she would not tell anyone—least of all Remus—that she knew about him. There had been no reports of a werewolf attack at Hogwarts or in Hogsmeade, so she assumed that he was being locked somewhere safe while he was dangerous.

_ There’s no need to worry him even more. _


	17. Chapter 17

The group dynamics of the boys were established rather quickly. James and Sirius had quickly become like two peas in a pod. They had, for the most part, stopped finishing each other’s sentences, but if you saw one of them, you were guaranteed that the other was not far behind.

Remus and Peter were, of course, still very good friends with the two of them. They were not as loud as their friends; even if they participated in rule-breaking, they usually received milder punishments than “Potter and Black.”

Over the next few weeks the four continued to pull less extravagant pranks. Usually these only affected the Slytherins, which led the other three houses to be more amused by them than annoyed. The teachers, especially McGonagall and Neasce, were not as pleased. When the boys were caught, they received detentions and points off.

Despite their lack of enthusiasm for schoolwork, James and Sirius were two of the brightest people in their year. They paid little to no attention in class and did their assignments the night before it was due—if they did it at all—but they seemed to consistently have O’s and E’s in all of their classes.

Peter had the same “I don’t care” attitude that James and Sirius had, but he lacked their natural brilliance. He was also horrible under academic pressure, and often forgot everything during tests. Remus thought that if he applied himself, he might even make better grades than he did, but tried to encourage his friend to do well in his classes nonetheless.

Remus himself was not as smart as James and Sirius, but he made up it by studying and always doing his homework. He figured that he was lucky to be getting his education at all, so he should learn all he could in case he ever was forced to leave school.

October went by in a blur, and they next full moon came much more quickly than either Remus or Greta would have liked. The date was October 22 nd ; his transformation was three days away.

“So, are we going to tell them Mum’s sick again?” Remus asked her in one of the few moments they had to themselves, seated in a corner of the common room.

“I think your friends will buy just about anything for another month or two,” Greta said. “Maybe we should space out the excuses—say, maybe, Mum gets sick every few months. You’re allowed to get sick too, so we could say it’s you this time.”

“But I got sick last month too,” Remus agreed. “And I’m going to get sick every month from now until I  _ die _ —”

“You—” she prodded him gently in the chest, “—need to think optimistically. You never know; they might come up with a cure tomorrow, and—”

“A cure for what?” James asked curiously, stumbling on their conversation at one of the worst possible times.

“What Mum’s got.”

“Oh, is she sick again?” he asked, immediately sympathetic. He, of Remus’ friends, was the one who most believed the story, as his was the only properly functioning family. He understood best what it was like to worry about a parent.

“Dad thinks it’s coming back. If it is, I’ll probably go home again for a few days.”

James grimaced and patted him on the shoulder bracingly. Remus was pleased that he did not flinch—he had been working on physical contact. James noticed this improvement as well, and grinned.

“Oi! James! Remus! Come help us with this!”

James turned to go, but Remus stayed seated. At James’ questioning glance, he said, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Once his dark-haired friend had gone, Remus turned to Greta. “So, Mum’s sick again.”

She nodded. “I guess we can just use that until they get suspicious. It’s easier that way.”

“What about your friends? Do they believe you?”

She nodded again. “I keep it really vague. Don’t worry, okay? Go plan that joke you’re playing on Halloween.” With a grin, Remus went over to the table where his friends were bent over a piece of parchment.

“So, what’s your idea?” Remus asked, flopping down into a chair.

“ _ Remus Lupin _ willing to help with a prank?” Sirius joked. Remus pushed him lightly, knowing it was true that he had been reluctant in the past.

“You should have seen me when I was little. I was uncontrollable,” he laughed. The other three laughed along with him.

“What were you and Greta talking about?” Peter asked.

“Just stuff,” Remus answered vaguely. “Mum’s sick again, we think.”

“That’s horrible how she gets so sick all the time,” Peter said sympathetically. Sirius and James nodded their agreement.

The four of them lapsed into silence for a few minutes, looking through their schoolbooks for prank ideas. “When are your birthdays?” Sirius asked, breaking the quiet.

“March,” Remus and James said at the same time.

“That’s cool!” James said enthusiastically. “What date?”

“The tenth.”

James’ face fell slightly. “Mine’s the twenty-seventh. But still—that’s so cool!” 

“When’s yours, Sirius?” Peter asked, grinning a bit at James’ over-excited state.

“June twelfth.”

Peter grinned. “I’m older than all of you! I turn twelve next week, on the first!”

“Happy early birthday!” James said cheerfully. “We’ll have to send for presents from Hogsmeade. Hopefully they’ll be in in time for your birthday...”

Peter beamed. “Mum said she’ll send tons of candy from the shop, so we can eat all those too! This’ll be great!”

* * *

Another full moon came and went without suspicion. Professor Neasce treated him rather frostily, but Remus figured that was to be expected. He was honestly surprised that not all of his teachers hated him. Sure, Professors Slughorn and Henig seemed rather uncomfortable around him, but he didn’t really mind.

Halloween arrived, and as soon as classes were over, the boys began to put their prank into motion. Remus had found a simple spell to turn robes different colors and patterns. They could cast it on doorways and make it activate when someone walked through, which had made James and Sirius even happier. They had quickly begun planning to put the spell on each doorway into the Great Hall before the feast.

The tricky part was to get the spell on all of the doors without going through one before the feast. This involved a lot of detours and mutterings from James and Sirius, but finally they had charmed all of the doors. They waited in the common room impatiently for the feast to begin.

The prank went off without a hitch; every single person in the Great Hall sported flashing orange and black robes, decorated with small, blinking pumpkins. Everybody knew the boys had done it—but nobody could prove it. 

James and Sirius were inordinately happy about this as they strode confidently out of the Great Hall. Most of the students found it rather funny, especially after the spell reversed itself when they walked through the doorway again. The Slytherins, however, were not at all pleased.

“SIRIUS BLACK!” Bellatrix yelled after them as they began ascending the marble staircase.

Sirius bit his lip for a moment before turning to face his cousin. “Yes, Bella?”

“Aunt Walburga told me to give you some time to change your mind about being a  _ Gryffindor _ , but since it seems to me like you’re not going to switch houses voluntarily—”

“Why would I want to transfer to Slytherin?” Sirius asked incredulously. “So I could turn into a creepy goon like you and your little friends?”

Bellatrix seemed to be trying very hard not to curse Sirius in front of half the school. “You’ll be disowned if you stay in that place.”

“I won’t,” Sirius countered, confident as ever. “I’m the firstborn. Dear Mum and Dad would be disgraced. They won’t disown me and ruin their reputations.”

“You—you—” Bellatrix’s face was red with anger, and her hand kept itching toward her pocket. Remus wanted to warn Sirius somehow, but he was actually a bit scared of his friend at that moment. He had never seen him like this before; his eyes had an angry glint in them that made Remus glad he was not on Sirius’ bad side.

“Why don’t we just leave each other alone? I’m sure we’d both be happier that way. And if Mum wants you to keep being her lapdog—”

“YOU!” Bellatrix’s hand was in and out of her pocket so quickly that Remus barely had time to shout a warning to Sirius. The dark-haired girl began speaking the incantation to what he was sure was a horrible, horrible curse. Before she could curse all four of them to oblivion, however, a voice sounded from behind the group of Slytherins.

“Is there a problem here?”

McGonagall pushed her way to the front of the crowd and frowned at Sirius and Bellatrix.

“No, Professor,” Sirius said quickly, glancing at Bellatrix. “We were just having a discussion.”

“A discussion with your wands?” she looked severely at the wand in Bellatrix’s hand. “Miss Black, there is no need for that. Put it away.”

“Yes, Professor,” she said, glaring daggers at Sirius all the while.

“Next time you wish to have a ‘discussion’,” she pronounced the word as if she knew it was a bit more than that, “I suggest you do not do it in the Entrance Hall. Next time it will be points off both of you. Now—back to your common rooms!”

Grumbling, the Slytherins left down the dungeon stairs, and the Gryffindors headed up to their Tower.

“I hate her,” Sirius mumbled.

“You’re worth a million of her, though,” James said encouragingly. “Don’t let her get to you.”

“But she’s my cousin—there’s no way I can avoid her at home!” she said hopelessly. “And then there’s my parents—you heard the Howler!”

“So you come and stay with one of us during the holidays,” Peter suggested. “It wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

Sirius shook his head. “Mum’ll want me home over the summer if I haven’t switched to Slytherin, to try and ‘reform’ me. If I don’t go she’ll come and take me. It’ll be easier if I just go home.”

“We’ll still send letters and stuff if you can’t visit,” Remus said bracingly. “Summer’s still a long way away.”

James and Peter nodded encouragingly. “And since you’re coming over for Christmas and Easter, you’ll be fine,” James added.

Sirius only smiled weakly, obviously not convinced.

* * *

The next day, they were all awakened by James’ alarm clock, which Remus had come to despise. Groaning and stumbling out of bed, Remus, Sirius and James began to slowly get ready. Peter, on the other hand, was full of energy.

“Mum said she’d send the candy,” he said excitedly. “Maybe it’ll come at breakfast! Then we can eat it all day!”

“McGonagall would never allow that,” Remus pointed out. “Neither would Neasce.”

“Well, we can eat it in Charms then! Flitwick wouldn’t mind!”

Seeing that nothing would dampen Peter’s mood, the other three quickly got ready and walked down to the Great Hall. Remus, James and Sirius began digging into their breakfast, while Peter impatiently waited for the owls to arrive.

When they finally did, all four of them looked up excitedly. “Look! There’s Hercules!” Peter said, his face glowing. Hercules seemed to be the exact opposite of his namesake; he was exhausted as he dropped the relatively small parcel in front of Peter, and took off again out the window. Peter tore open the letter, and his face fell as he read its contents. He set the letter on the table and reached for the package. Remus, James and Sirius leaned toward him to read the letter:

_ Peter— _

_ Happy twelfth birthday! Unfortunately, I cannot send you the candy I promised, as sales at the store are down and I barely have enough gold to pay for the rent and food for myself and your sister. I’ve sent a small something along and plan to send you many more sweets as soon as I have enough money. Grace and I send our love! _

_ —Mum _

“Peter...” James began slowly. Peter had, by this time, opened the package to find a small book on magical creatures and a package of Bertie Bott’s.

“Mum doesn’t love me as much as her,” he mumbled. The other three shared a glance.

“She said she’d send you a proper present as soon as sales were up again,” Sirius said.

Peter shook his head. “Mum just bought Grace a toy broomstick—she told me in her last letter. They can’t be  _ that _ bad off.”

The others shared another uncomfortable glance. “You’ve got us, though,” Remus said, trying to cheer him up. “We all got you presents. That book looks pretty interesting, too.”

Peter shook his head again, angry. “You don’t get it. Or you,” he added, glancing at James. “Your parents love you and your lives are perfect. You don’t get what it’s like to be unloved by your own  _ mother _ .”

“Hey, it’s not that she doesn’t love you!” James said in surprise. “She’s probably just stressed out.”

“You’ve never met her.”

“You need to cheer up, mate,” Sirius said, clapping him on the back. “none of us have perfect lives. My family’s worse than yours, and Remus’ mum is really sick. If your mum doesn’t think you’re worth her time, then she’s not worth your time.” Remus was incredibly surprised at Sirius’ spontaneous bout of wisdom.  _ I guess he does use his brain...when he wants to, at least. _

“But she’s my  _ mum _ !” Peter said, clearly very upset. “Mums are supposed to love  _ all _ their kids, aren’t they?”

“Not all mums do,” Sirius continued. “Look at mine. But we’re here for you, right? It’s not like everyone in the world hates you.”

Peter’s face finally split into a bit of a grin. “I’ve never heard you talk so seriously, Sirius.”

The dark-haired boy laughed and slapped him on the back again. “That’s the Peter I know!”

Peter was in a much better mood for the rest of the day; even Neasce’s class could not kill his good mood.

Defense had become their least favorite class. For Remus, it was because Neasce hated him so much. The others hated Neasce because he hated Remus. “We stick together,” James had told Remus once when he had asked. “You’re our friend, right? He hates you, so we hate him.”

That day they were studying hinkypunks, a continuation of the previous class. The first part of the lecture was primarily a review, so most people didn’t pay much attention. 

“Lupin!” Neasce said suddenly, snapping all of them out of their stupors. “Where do hinkypunks usually live?”

“Bogs where they can easily lead people astray.”

“I asked  _ where _ they lived, not why they lived there,” he sneered at him. “Next time I—”

“Why don’t you just stop picking on him, huh?” Sirius said suddenly, standing up. “What’s Remus ever done to you?”

“Sit down, Black, or I will deduct points from Gryffindor.”

“I’ll sit down when you answer my question!”

“Ten points from Gryffindor. If you do not sit down right now, it will be detention.”

Remus tugged Sirius down by the back of his robes, glaring at him angrily.  _ Why did he do that? _ he asked himself.  _ He knew he wouldn’t win arguing against him. It’s just a waste of time. _

“You didn’t need to do that,” Remus told him after class.

“Yes I did,” Sirius said shortly. “He hates you so much and he doesn’t even have a reason why!”

_ Of course he does. I’m a bloodthirsty monster _ . “I don’t mind, really. Just don’t do that again. I’m not worth—”

“You know what your problem is?” James said suddenly, jumping into the conversation. “You think you’re the lowest thing in the world, and you’re  _ not _ !”

Remus smiled a bit but did not reply. “Look, Remus,” Peter said. “You know you’re our friend, right? You can tell us anything.”

His smile stayed in place, but Remus still said nothing.  _ If they knew... _

“You really do need to work on that, you know,” James pressed. “You’re a great person. You should think better of yourself.”


	18. Chapter 18

The first Quidditch match of the season was Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw a week later. James had eagerly anticipated the upcoming game for more than two months, and he would tell anyone who listened—and even those who would not—his theories about how it would turn out.

“Gryffindor’s got an excellent defense,” he was telling an unfortunate Frank Longbottom at breakfast the day before the match. “but their Chasers aren’t really that great. I’ve watched some of their practices. They’ll be able to keep Ravenclaw from scoring but won’t be able to score much themselves. Basically it’s all down to the Seekers to decide the match—”

“Would you just give it a rest?” Peter asked him crossly. “We’ve all heard this a million times. Why don’t you wait and just watch the game?”

James scowled at him and turned back to Frank to resume his monologue, but he had slipped away while James was distracted.

* * *

The date of the game—November the ninth—finally arrived, and everyone from all four houses was just as excited as James had been for an entire week. The Gryffindor team sat at the end of the table. Some of the players just sat there, looking ill; others piled food into their mouths like the outcome of the game depended on it. Finally, the captain called for them to go to the changing rooms, and they exited the Great Hall to applause from the Gryffindors and hisses from the Ravenclaws.

James insisted that the four of them leave early in order to get the best seats in the Gryffindor stands. Consequently, they were some of the first people there and were able to get seats in the middle of the front row. Remus had never seen a real Quidditch game—though he would never let James know that—and he was rather excited to see how it worked. He knew that he would have a colossal headache afterward from all the noise, but found quickly that he didn’t care.

Slowly the stands began to fill up around them, and after half an hour most of the school was outside in the chilly November wind. The teams walked out onto the field to tremendous applause. “And here are the teams!” said Marlene McKinnon, the seventh-year commentator. “And Madame Hooch is out with the balls—Wood and Chang shake hands—and they’re off! Ravenclaw takes the Quaffle—oh! Sixth year Fabian Prewett hits Chang with a Bludger—Gryffindor in possession. Those Prewett twins are excellent Beaters,  _ and _ they’re easy on the eyes—”

“McKinnon,” McGonagall said warningly.

“Right. Sorry, Professor. So, Gryffindor’s Robert O’Neill flying toward the goal—”

“You know, Sirius, I reckon you’d make a good commentator,” Remus yelled over the cheers; Robert had just scored.

Sirius grinned widely. “That McKinnon girl’s a seventh year, right? Maybe I’ll ask McGonagall next year.”

The game last about another hour until the score was 200-169 to Ravenclaw. James’ observations had been correct; the Gryffindor team was strong except for its Chasers; the only reason the score was relatively close was that Wood was an excellent Keeper, and the Ravenclaw Keeper was particularly bad.

“Oh—Gryffindor’s Seeker, third year Jeremiah Rudd, looks like he’s seen the Snitch! Yes, both Seekers are after it now…”

The entire stadium held its breath as the two raced around the pitch. Both were evenly matched until a Bludger came out of nowhere, barely missing the Ravenclaw Seeker and forcing him to veer off course.

“Excellent Bludger shot by Gideon Prewett! Yes—RUDD’S CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS 310 TO 200!”

Gryffindors streamed out onto the field to congratulate the team. Danielle, Kristen and Philip Rudd were talking with Jeremiah, who Remus assumed was their brother.

“Party! Common Room! Someone get food from the kitchens!” Wood roared. Gideon and Fabian obligingly sped off to the castle, followed by many Gryffindors.

James disappeared—”Probably sucking up to Wood,” Sirius joked—so the other three headed back to Gryffindor Tower with most of the house.

By the time they arrived, food was on every available surface, and the seven best seats by the fire were reserved for the team.

James found them quickly in the crowd. “Next year that’ll be me,” he said wistfully, watching as the team was given Butterbeer and congratulated countless times.

The others didn’t encourage his Quidditch conversation, so he grew irritated after a while and left again to talk with someone more Quidditch-obsessed.

Remus was actually enjoying himself more than he thought he would. Sure, he wasn’t quite comfortable with the huge crowd, but the food was good and he was not the center of attention.

“Where do you think they got all the food?” Sirius asked thoughtfully. “Are the kitchens really open to students?”

“Why don’t you ask those two beaters?” Remus said logically. “They’re the ones who got all of it.”

Sirius grinned and sped off in the direction of the two redheads. Remus and Peter followed behind him. He waited until the two older students were finished with their conversation with Marlene McKinnon before asking,

“Where’d you get all this food?”

The two grinned at each other. “Little first years want to know where the kitchens are,” one said. For the life of him, Remus could not tell them apart. “You think we should tell them, Fabian?”

Fabian shook his head. “’Course not. Let them find it on their own.”

Sirius looked downcast. “Why not?”

“What’s the fun of Hogwarts if you don’t find anything yourself?” one of them said.

“There’s plenty of hidden passages and stuff around too,” the other said. “We’re not discouraging you or anything, but it’s better if you find it yourself.”

“Can you give us a hint, at least?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Do you know where the Hufflepuff common room is?”They shook their heads. “Well, it’s somewhere near there. Have fun!” and the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

“Are there really secret passages?” Peter asked excitedly. “How many do you reckon there are? How would we find them?”

“I know where one is,” Remus said. “Right outside the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey showed me back in September. Walk through the wall right across from the door and you end up in the Entrance Hall.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Peter said skeptically. “You’re skipping down seven floors!”

Remus shrugged. “Since when does Hogwarts make sense?”

“Well, we’ll just have to go looking then,” Sirius said, grinning. “There’s loads of places we’ve never been. We’ll have to go out one night and start looking.”

“Looking for what?” James had come back, Butterbeer clutched in one hand. Sirius grinned at him.

“James, mate, it’s time to go exploring.”

* * *

That night, in fact, Sirius insisted that they go look around. “Let’s just start here and look,” he said cheerfully as they snuck out of the portrait hole.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t we start in the dungeons and go up?”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

They had only been searching for a few minutes when James gave a surprised yell and fell right through a tapestry. “OI!” Sirius said, maybe a bit louder than he should have, as they were breaking curfew.

“’M all right,” James’ muffled voice came from behind the tapestry. “I think this goes somewhere—come see!”

The three others pushed it aside and went in a bit more gracefully. “Let’s see where this goes!” Sirius said excitedly. Knowing that his friends would be deaf to logic, Remus followed them down a short passageway, where they came out a solid wall.

“ _ Weird _ ,” James said excitedly. “Do you guys know where we are?”

They all shook their heads. “Well, let’s look around, then!”

They had only been wandering for a minute or two when Remus shushed them. “Wait! Do you guys hear that?”

“Hear what?” Peter asked, looking at him in confusion.

“Footsteps? Quick—get in there!” he gestured to a nearby door, and they all dived for it, closing it behind them.

“What was that about?” James asked.

“I could have sworn I heard footsteps coming—” they all quieted as they heard footsteps right outside the room. They held their breath as a voice passed by.

“We’ll catch ‘em, my pretty…now that the Headmaster’s put muffling charms on us, they won’t hear us until we’re right behind them…”

Filch and his kitten, Mrs Norris, passed, and eventually his voice faded into nothingness. “Nice call, Remus,” Sirius said appreciatively. “How would you hear him that far off?”

Remus shrugged, a bit uncomfortable. “My years are just really good.”

“Peter, what’re you looking at?” James asked suddenly, looking over to him. He was standing in front of what looked like a mirror.

“It’s—it’s amazing!” he said, wide-eyed. “It’s me, only everyone loves me! Mum’s there— _ and _ I’m Head Boy! Merlin!”

“Let me see,” James said excitedly. Remus stopped him before he could move farther.

“Are you sure that’s safe? What is it?”

“What could it do?” Sirius asked skeptically.

“Use your imagination. It could curse you or suck you in or brainwash you—”

“Peter’s still here, isn’t he? Relax.” And James stepped in front of the mirror. “Woah!” he said. Remus couldn’t see what was so exciting; all he saw was James’ reflection in the glass. “This is bloody amazing! I’m Quidditch Captain! And I’ve agreed to play for Puddlemere United! I’m famous! D’you think this shows the future or something?”

“Let me see,” Sirius said. James stepped away so he could get a clear view. Sirius looked very surprised but didn’t say anything immediately.

“What is it, Sirius?” Peter asked a bit timidly.

“It’s…my family. Only they’re  _ happy _ for me! They  _ love _ me! This can’t show the future! I’m  _ never _ going to agree with them!” he nearly yelled to the room. None of the others tried to say anything. They knew it would only make his temper flare even more.

“Your turn, Remus,” he said after a few seconds. He stepped aside, giving Remus a full view of the mirror. Remus looked up into his reflection and waited for something to happen, but nothing seemed to change.

Then, the window caught his eye, and he gasped; the full moon was shining back at him.

Remus spun around and looked out the real window; he saw a sliver of light, a week and a half past full. He turned back to the mirror in time to see his very human reflection grin at him and play with a ring on his finger.

_ A silver ring _ .

Remus stumbled back from the mirror in horror. “Oi!” James ran into his line of vision, grabbing him by the shoulders and mercifully blocking out the lying image in the mirror.

Remus shook his head. “It’s a lie. It’ll never happen!”

“What did you see?” Peter asked. Remus shook his head violently again.

“It’s  _ lying _ !”

“What is going on here?”

The four of them spun around to see Professor McGonagall. Remus had not realized how much noise they had been making, and he had been far too distracted to listen for footsteps. “It is long past curfew. Fif—” she stopped when she saw the look on Remus’ face. “Mr Lupin, are you all right?”

“It’s this mirror, Professor,” James said quickly, letting go of Remus and turning toward her. “He won’t tell us what he saw in it, but whatever it was really scared him.”

“What mirror?” she walked across the room in seconds and began looking intently at the mirror. Her brow furrowed as she read what was inscribed across the top—the boys had not noticed it—then her eyes slid to the actual mirror. “I think we need to see Professor Dumbledore about this,” she said, her face unreadable. She gestured for them to follow her. None of them had ever been called to Headmaster’s office during the school year; the others looked as nervous as Remus felt.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” James asked Remus as they walked. Remus nodded a bit. The initial shock had worn off, but the image still lingered in his mind.

_ Me. Human. Under a full moon. _

Unfortunately—for Sirius, at least—McGonagall did not lead them through any secret passageways on their way to Dumbledore’s office.

“But we were on the  _ seventh _ floor!” James said disbelievingly as they climbed yet another flight of stairs. The others shrugged.

Eventually the five of them stopped in front of an unremarkable stone gargoyle. “Acid pops,” McGonagall said clearly. The gargoyle slid aside, revealing a set of moving stairs. McGonagall started up them, and the boys quickly followed.

“Minerva, what are you doing up at this hour? Ah,” Dumbledore said in understanding as the boys came in after her. James, Sirius and Peter stared around in awe. Remus realized that they had never been to Dumbledore’s office before.

“Cool office, sir!” Peter said, his eyes huge. James gasped.

“Is that a  _ phoenix _ ?”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Yes, that is Fawkes. Now, I believe you four were brought here for a reason? Surely Minerva did not drag you out of bed to admire my office.”

James began before anyone else could say anything—”We got really lost after we fell through a tapestry up by the Tower, and then we heard Filch coming so we went into an old classroom and there was this weird mirror and we all looked at it and Remus got really scared but he wouldn’t tell us why and then Mc— _ Professor _ McGonagall found us and brought us here.”

Dumbledore smiled. “I’m sure Argus will be unhappy that students are still able to hear him coming after he insisted I put those muffling charms on his shoes…”

“Well, it was actually only Remus who heard him. He’s got really good ears,” Peter clarified.

“Ah.” Dumbledore was silent for a moment, and Remus kept waiting for the moment when he would announce that they were expelled for breaking curfew and for playing with potentially dangerous magical artifacts.  _ Everyone’ll be so disappointed in— _

“Could you boys please describe the mirror you found?” Dumbledore asked suddenly.

“Er, well, it was really big, and it looked like it was silver, and it had weird markings across the top that we didn’t understand…”Sirius trailed off. Remus almost allowed himself a smile.  _ Sounds better than we didn’t notice it at all. _

“And what did you see in the mirror?”

“I saw myself really famous and Head Boy, and everyone loved me,” Peter said wistfully.

“And I was a Quidditch star,” James said excitedly. “Does it show the future, Professor?”

“I told you, it doesn’t!” Remus surprised even himself with his sudden outburst.

“How can you know?” James challenged. “Maybe Sirius’ family will have a change of heart someday, and I’m  _ sure _ that whatever you saw can happen eventually!”

“No, it won’t!”

“Potter, Lupin, please,” McGonagall said sternly. Dumbledore didn’t reprimand the boys; instead, he turned to Sirius.

“What did you see, Mr Black?”

“My family,” he mumbled to the floor, obviously angry. “Only they were on my side—they didn’t hate me or anything.”

Dumbledore nodded understandingly and turned to Remus. “And Mr Lupin…?”

Remus shook his head violently. He desperately thought,  _ They can’t know… _ over and over again, hoping that Dumbledore could perhaps read minds. Incredibly, the old wizard seemed to understand his thoughts and nodded. “Very well. I am fairly sure I know what your mirror is—the Mirror of Erised.”

All four of the boys gave him blank looks while McGonagall nodded in understanding. “It is an ancient magical artifact that shows you the thing you most desperately desire.”

They, too, nodded in understanding. Remus threw James a jealous glance.  _ His life must be heaven if all he wants is to be a Quidditch star… _

“I’m afraid I’ll have to deduct twenty points for your breaking curfew,” Dumbledore said, looking over his glasses sternly at them. “If Minerva had a say, I’m sure it would be many more, but I can completely understand getting lost in this castle.

“Now, Messers Potter, Black and Pettigrew, off to bed, please. Mr Lupin, Professor McGonagall and I would like a word.”

Shooting curious glances at them, Remus’ friends left him alone with the two professors.

“You might want to make sure they’re not listening at the door,” Remus advised them. Dumbledore chuckled and cast a spell. At Remus’ questioning stare, he said,

“It’s a handy little charm that will fill up any unwanted listeners’ ears with buzzing. Your friends won’t hear anything, even if they are standing right outside the door.”

“Thanks, professor,” Remus said quietly, looking at the floor.

“You have the same right to privacy as anyone else,” Dumbledore said sternly, again showing the odd ability to read Remus’ mind. Remus didn’t reply, so McGonagall jumped into the conversation.

“Mr Lupin, I have been thinking about your transformations, and—”

His head spun around in alarm. “No! You can’t come with me!”

“Let me explain,” she said. “I understand that under the full moon, you are only dangerous to humans?”

Remus nodded slowly, not sure where she was headed. “But you’re not an animal—”

“But I will be able to become one. I’ve already begun training courses with the Ministry and a Transfiguration expert, and if all goes well I will be a registered Animagus by March.” Remus opened his mouth to object, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Assuming I turn into a large enough animal, I could accompany you to the house. If our theory is correct, you should be less violent with other animals there.”

“But what if it doesn’t work? What if you still smell like a human? And you shouldn’t be doing this in the first place!” He looked wildly between the two professors. “If anyone finds out what you’re doing, you could be sacked! I’m not worth that! Don’t—”

“Mr Lupin,” McGonagall said severely. “You are one of the most wonderful, intelligent students in this school. Don’t you  _ ever _ think you are not worthy of something.”

“But—”

“No. I will tell you when I have completed the transfiguration, and we can work out from there whether I will be big enough. Do you know how large the wolf is?”

“Really big.”

McGonagall nodded. “Very well. We’ll see what animal I turn into, and then we can discuss what will happen next.”

Dumbledore clapped his hands. “Excellent! Now, if nobody has anything else to say, I think we all should go off to bed. Mr Lupin, you may tell your roommates that we wished to discuss the Mirror with you, if they ask.”

Remus nodded and turned toward the staircase, McGonagall close behind him. “Good night, professor,” Remus called over his shoulder.

Dumbledore smiled. “Good night, Mr Lupin.”


	19. Chapter 19

The rest of the term passed rather quietly for Sirius’ standards. Remus disappeared to see his mother for a few days again toward the end of November. Sirius was starting to get a bit worried; Mrs Lupin seemed to get ill quite a lot. And what would happen if she  _ died _ ? Remus would be devastated, and he was sure Greta would be just as upset.

Sirius, James and Peter—Sirius with some persuasion—had decided not to question Remus or Greta about it unless it seemed like it was getting worse. They figured there was no need to worry them anymore.

Another issue was worrying Sirius more and more as the holidays approached: where he would stay. Nobody had discussed it after his friends had said he could stay with them, and finally he brought it up mid-December, the week before break started.

“Guys? Have you found out whether I could stay with one of you over break yet?”

Remus’ face lit up. “Thanks for reminding me—Dad says you all can come the day after Christmas! That is, if you want to,” he added as an afterthought. “I think my room’s big enough for three sleeping bags, or we could sleep in the living room if it’s not.”

“What about your mum?” James asked, confused. “I thought she was sick?”

“It comes and goes. If Dad did the math right, she should be fine by after Christmas. So, what do you think?” Sirius got the impression he was trying to change the subject quickly. “Do you want to come over?”

“Sure!”

“And you can stay with me until then,” James said to Sirius. “We’ve got plenty of room in our house, and my parents won’t mind.”

* * *

The train ride home was uneventful on December nineteenth. Remus slept through most of the ride, and Sirius couldn’t blame him—he looked very ill. The other three shared concerned glances but had learned not to ask Remus about his health.

They woke him up when the train arrived at the station, and he walked off the train rather unsteadily. Greta, Dorcas and Amelia caught up with them just as they were stepping off.

“How are you feeling?” Greta asked her brother. He shrugged a bit. “Well, we should find Dad and get home so you can rest up.” She scanned the crowd, apparently looking for their father. “You guys stay here for a minute—I’ll go find him.” She jogged off, leaving her trunk behind.

“Are you  _ sure _ you’re okay, Remus?” Dorcas asked, concerned. “You look really ill…”

Remus seemed to try to smile, but Sirius thought it looked more like a grimace. “I just need to sleep at home. I’ll be better in a couple days.”

Sirius and James shared a glance, skeptical and a bit worried.

“Peter! Mummy, here’s Peter!”

A small girl barreled past others, nearly knocking Remus over, and hugged Peter around the middle. “I’ve missed you! You’ve been gone  _ forever _ !”

Peter smiled a bit apologetically at his friends. “This is Grace,” he explained.

“I’m  _ seven _ !” she said proudly.

“Peter, dear! How was your term?”

Peter grimaced before turning to a rather large woman, apparently his mother. Grace looked just like her mother and nothing like Peter. Sirius could only assume Peter resembled his father. “It was fine, mum,” Peter mumbled.

“And who are these?” Mrs Pettigrew turned dramatically to the group.

“These are my friends,” Peter answered, marginally happier. “James, Sirius and Remus, and those are Remus’ sister’s friends, Dorcas and Amelia!”

“So where is your sister, dearie?” Mrs Pettigrew asked Remus. Sirius would have balked being called “dearie” by someone he had known for less than a minute, but Remus answered, polite as ever.

“She’s looking for our dad.”

“Here they are!”

Greta and Mr Lupin joined the already large group. Mr Lupin looked around the group, his gaze lingering on Sirius. Sirius noticed that Remus looked just like his father, except for his hair and eyes. He had never mentioned it, but Sirius was almost positive that the amber-gold color of Remus’ eyes was not a natural eye color.  _ But what made them like that, then…? _

“You must be young Remus’ father!” Mrs Pettigrew said brightly, interrupting Sirius’ thoughts. “I’m Sue Pettigrew, and this is my daughter Grace. I’m sure you’ve heard of Peter from your darling son.” She held out her hand.

“Ian Lupin. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said politely, shaking the proffered hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but Remus isn’t feeling well, and neither is my wife. We really need to go.” He put a hand on Remus’ shoulder, and Sirius was rather reminded of the time they had met in Diagon Alley. Mr Lupin had done the same thing; it was as if he was trying to protect him from something—

_ Don’t be stupid, _ he told himself.  _ That’s what normal dads do! _

“See you guys after Christmas,” Remus said, smiling at his friends a bit miserably as Greta hugged her friends good bye. “Is noon okay?”

They all nodded. “Bye! And you and your mum feel better!” Remus waved before he disappeared into the crowd.

“Well, we really should be going to, Petie.” Peter gagged behind his mother’s back and waved too as the three of them walked away.

“Have you seen your parents, James?” Amelia asked.

He squinted his eyes, looking around for them. “There they are!” he said excitedly, pointing. “See you guys—hey, are you going to the Lupins’ on the twenty-sixth?”

“I don’t think so, but Greta and Dorcas are coming to my house for New Year’s,” Amelia said. “We don’t want to stress them out more, especially now that Mrs Lupin’s so sick…”

“She hasn’t always been sick?” Sirius asked sharply, looking up at them.  _ Didn’t Remus say she’s been sick for a long time? _ James seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

Dorcas shook her head. “No…Greta never talked about it before this year. I guess she could have just not mentioned it, but she’s always seemed well whenever I visited before.”

“If anything,  _ Remus _ is the one who’s sick,” Amelia said thoughtfully. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him though, and Greta won’t say anything. I figure it’s their business, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Sirius said, unconvinced. Amelia ruffled his hair.

“Remus’ll tell you if he needs help. Lupins are strong. Now, you need to go find your parents before they come looking!”

Waving, James and Sirius left the girls to find Mr and Mrs Potter again. “Dad!” James yelled out suddenly to a tall, older man who looked remarkably like James. “Mum!”

James’ parents turned to see their son waving frantically at them. “James!” Mr Potter said cheerfully, walking quickly toward them. “How was your term?”

“It was great,” James said grinning. He allowed his father to ruffle his hair, which made it even messier than usual. “And this is Sirius, of course.”

“Oh, we’ve heard all about you,” Mrs Potter said kindly, giving James a hug. To Sirius’ immense surprise, she gave him one as well. “We’ll have to introduce ourselves properly once we’re home.”

Once they arrived at the Potters’ enormous house, Sirius got settled into James’ room, where an extra bed had been added for him.

“Thanks so much,” he said for the millionth time at dinner that night.

Mr Potter chuckled and clapped him on the back. “You don’t need to thank us! James has sent us letters about you and your other friends—Remus and Peter?—so I’m happy to meet you.”

“Sorry you couldn’t meet Remus and Pete,” James said. “Mrs Pettigrew was in a hurry, and Mr Lupin said that Remus and his mum weren’t feeling good, so they had to go too.”

“We’ll meet them when we drop you off on Saturday,” Mrs Potter said. “Ian Lupin’s an old friend of mine—we work together at St Mungo’s, you know.”

“Did Mr Lupin ever say anything about Mrs Lupin being sick?” James asked innocently.

Mrs Potter looked surprised. “I don’t think so. She was always healthy when I ever met her. But I haven’t seen any of the Lupins in five years or so…she could have caught something. Why do you ask?”

James and Sirius shared a glance. “He has to go home a lot and look after her. Something about a potion with a matching blood type,” James explained.

Mrs Potter was immediately sympathetic. “The poor dears…it must be hard for all of them. I hope you don’t bring it up,” she sent them a stern look.

“’Course not, mum,”

“I’ve never heard of an illness that needs a matching blood type for a treatment,” Mr Potter said, frowning. “Do you know exactly what’s wrong with her?

They both shook their heads. “Remus won’t say. Well, he says the name’s really long and he can’t ever remember it, but I think it’s more that he doesn’t want to tell us.”

“Which is perfectly all right,” Mrs Potter said sternly. “It’s none of your business. All you need to know is that she’s sick. Be a good friend to Remus and be there when he needs someone to talk to. That’s all you can do.”

* * *

That night, the two boys stayed up late talking about nothing in particular until Sirius brought up the subject of Remus and his mum again.

“Your dad’s really good at potions, isn’t he?” he said earnestly. “If he can’t think of any—”

“Drop it,” James interrupted, uncharacteristically serious. “Remus has no reason to lie, does he? Maybe it’s a really new potion, or it’s really rare and Dad doesn’t know about it. I reckon Mum’s right. We can Floo tomorrow and make sure they’re okay, but really we can’t do anything else.”

* * *

Remus was in a daze through most of the car ride home from King’s Cross. He was, for once, very glad that his mother couldn’t get onto Platform 9 ¾, as this gave him a perfect excuse to make sure his friends did not see his healthy mother when she was supposed to be deathly ill.

“Remus?” his father asked. He jumped and looked away from the window.

“Sorry,” he said, bringing himself completely back to reality. “What’d you say?”

“I asked how you get along with your roommates?”

“They’re great,” he said, grinning. “They’re a lot like me when I was little—we pulled a bunch of pranks together. My main jobs were the research and the lying when we got caught,” he added, “but it was really fun!”

“So that Sirius Black isn’t giving you any trouble?”

Remus glared at him. “How many times do I have to tell you? Sirius—”

“Okay, I get it,” he interrupted. “I’m just worried he’s going to turn around one day and curse you into the next—”

“Dad,” Greta interrupted, “Sirius is a good kid. You’ll meet him after Christmas, all right?”

* * *

James and Sirius got permission from James’ parents the next day to Floo to the Lupins’ house to see how they were doing. “Make it quick, and call in the evening,” Mrs Potter warned. “If they’re ill, they’ll want to sleep.”

James threw some Floo powder into the enormous fireplace at about five o’clock, and he and Sirius stuck their heads in. they eventually found themselves looking into a rather small kitchen. Nobody was there, so the two of them shared a glance before James yelled out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”

They heard a gasp and a curse from an adjacent room. Footsteps ran toward the kitchen, and a very frazzled Greta came into their line of sight.

“Do you need something?” she asked, almost impatiently. She looked surprised—and frightened?—at their unexpected visit.

“We just wanted to check on Remus and your mum,” Sirius said quickly. “Are they—”

“Dad’s actually making the potion right now. I’m supposed to be helping him,” she added, glancing out the window for some reason. “It has to be done soon, otherwise it won’t work.”

“Sorry,” James said, and he looked sincere. “We can Floo later if that’d be better.”

“No,” Greta said rather quickly— _ almost too quickly, _ Sirius mused—”That probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I’ll pass along a message for you if you want, but neither one of them is in any condition to talk to you right now.” She looked pleadingly at them. “Just come on the 26 th , okay? I promise they’ll be better by then.”

“Er, all right,” James said, rather surprised. “Just tell them we hope they feel better.”

“Greta!” a man’s voice called from the next room over.

“I have to go,” she said quickly, turning toward the door. “We’ll see you in a few days, okay?”

The two boys nodded, very confused, and she sped out of the room again. James was about to go back to his own home when Sirius stopped him, indicating that they should listen to the people in the next room. They could not hear much, but from what Sirius could tell, Mr Lupin and Greta seemed to be putting a large number of spells on something.

Once they were finished, they began walking toward the kitchen. James and Sirius quickly pulled their heads out of the fire and landed back in James’ living room.

“How are they?” Mrs Potter asked from behind them. She had apparently been waiting for their return.

“We didn’t actually see either of them. They’re still really sick,” James said.

“Will they be well enough to have you over on Saturday?”

“Greta said they’ll be better by then,” Sirius said, but he was doubtful.

“He’ll Floo us if he’s too sick,” James said confidently.

* * *

Remus was feeling almost perfectly well again by the 24 th . The only remaining reminders of his transformation were long, parallel scratches down his neck that were healing much slower than usual; apparently they had been very deep. His father had assured him that they would not leave scars, but Remus was terrified of someone seeing them. His family had promised him that they were not noticeable at all, but he knew there was no way James, Sirius and Peter would miss them.

Greta woke him up before dawn on Christmas morning, much more cheery than any person had a right to be at that time. “It’s Christmas!” she said, shaking him. He groaned and rolled over. “C’mon, we’ve got presents!”

“Lemme sleep,” he grumbled, glancing at the clock: it was five-thirty.

“No! You’ve got to come downstairs—Mum’s making cookies and cider and we can start a fire to keep warm and open presents and—”

“I don’t smell any food,” Remus argued. “Go back to sleep.”

Ignoring his protests, Greta dragged him out of bed and down the stairs, barely stopping to all how him to grab his bathrobe. Their parents were already sitting on the couch, looking just as tired as Remus felt.

“Cookies, Mum! And cider!” Greta said loudly. “That’s the only thing that got Remus out of bed!”

“Because I came down on my own,” Remus muttered sarcastically. Everyone else laughed.

“C’mon, cheer up! It’s Christmas!”

Soon enough, the cookies were out of the oven and the cider was poured. Immediately after everyone had been served, Greta started handing out presents. Remus received a few books he had been wanting to read from Greta, and his parents gave him excellent presents as well. They all received presents from Alex’s side of the family, but Remus got what seemed to be a dog’s old chew toy from Ian’s parents. Ian’s sisters and their families sent nothing at all.

Remus stared for a moment at the chew toy before setting it aside quietly and reaching for another present. He realized suddenly that he had not gotten his friends presents, and resolved to go to Diagon Alley before they arrived.

“Bloody hell, Remus!” Greta said angrily, picking up the chew toy and throwing it across the room. It hit the closed cellar door and fell to the ground.

“It’s fine…” Remus started.

“No, it’s  _ not _ fine!” she said. “They’re treating you like a dog!”

“At least they’re acknowledging that I’m alive. They haven’t sent anything for years.”

“But—”

“Leave it. It’s not a big deal, all right?”

Greta opened her mouth to argue, but Ian stopped her. “If Remus doesn’t let it bug him, you shouldn’t either.”

“They’re our  _ grandparents _ !” Greta nearly yelled.

“Stop,” Remus repeated quietly.

“But—”

“No.”

* * *

Remus would not let everybody mope about the unsatisfactory gift from his paternal grandparents. He reasoned that his father’s family had not talked to any of them since Remus had been bitten, so there was no reason to be upset now. He still had his mother’s family, who, for the most part, were a very agreeable bunch. He figured he was not lacking in good family like Sirius was, so he should not complain.

Peter, James and Sirius had all sent owls saying they would bring presents on the 26 th . It was just as well, as Remus had no presents for any of them. That afternoon he convinced his father to bring him to Diagon Alley. Remus sped to Quality Quidditch Supplies immediately to look for something for James, and settled on a small set of nice broom-caring tools, as he was sure James had his own broom at home.

He got a Deluxe Joke Pack for Sirius from Gambol and Japes. He seemed to get the most enjoyment pulling pranks. He hesitated on what he should buy for Peter, but eventually bought him some things from Gambol and Japes as well.

They got home at around four, and started to wrap the presents. “Can I Floo James and Sirius?” Remus asked when they were done.

Ian looked confused. “Why?”

“To apologize for missing them on Sunday.” Greta had told them what had happened while Remus was being secured in the basement, and he wanted to give them an explanation of why he was unable to talk to them.

His father hesitated, but finally nodded, so Remus Floo-called the Potters’ house. When his head finally stopped spinning, he found that he was looking out into a magnificent sitting room at least four times the size of his own.

“Can I help you?”

Remus found that his mouth was hanging open and recovered quickly. “Er…yes, can I talk to James and Sirius?”

“And who might you be? One of their friends?” the woman asked kindly. Remus vaguely recognized her as James’ mother.

“I’m Remus Lupin,” he elaborated.

Her face lit up. “Are you and your mother feeling better? The boys were so worried when they called on Sunday and you weren’t well enough to see them…”

“We’re both much better, thanks,” Remus said, feeling a stab of guilt about the lie, and feeling a bit wary about the older woman.  _ She’s a Healer too, isn’t she? I hope she doesn’t question Dad too much about us. _ “So, can I talk to them?”

“Of course—they’re outside in the snow, let me call them in,” and she turned quickly for the door.

The two dark-haired boys were inside within seconds after Mrs Potter told them who was in the Floo. “Remus! How are you, mate?” Sirius asked. Both he and Sirius were soaking wet, with snow in their hair, but neither of them seemed to mind that they were dripping all over the beautiful white carpet.

“Better than I was a few days ago. I just wanted to apologize for missing your call the other day.”

“Don’t worry about it,” James said, waving his hand. “If you felt even worse than you looked on Saturday, , you must’ve felt like  _ hell _ !”

“But that shouldn’t—”

“Drop it. No, really,” Sirius interrupted. “You were sick, and now you’re better. And what about your mum?”

“She’s better too.”

“Excellent! So we’re still going to your house tomorrow?” James asked excitedly.

“Yeah. That is, if you want to,” he added, looking apprehensively around the room again. “It’s not nearly as nice as yours…”

“Do you think that matters?” James asked incredulously. “Sometimes I think this house is too big, anyway. I mean, there’s only three of us, four with Sirius, and a few house elves.” Remus’ mouth fell open at the mention of house elves, but he shut it quickly.

“So is noon tomorrow okay still?” he asked them, covering up his shock. They nodded happily. “When do your parents want you back?”

They both shrugged. “James,” Mrs Potter called from somewhere out of Remus’ line of sight. Apparently she had been listening to their conversation. “Your father’s birthday is on the second, you know. Would you and Sirius mind coming home then?”

James turned back to Remus questioningly. “That’d be fine,” Remus confirmed. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye!”


	20. Chapter 20

The next day, Peter Flooed over with his mother and sister precisely at noon. After a few minutes of polite conversation, Remus decided that Mrs Pettigrew was nice enough, but he agreed with Peter: she seemed to favor Grace.

Peter seemed very relieved when his family finally left, and Remus led him up to his room to drop off his things. Just as they were finishing, another familiar voice came from downstairs:

“Mr and Mrs Lupin! How are you? I’m James, and this is Sirius! And these are my parents!” Remus wondered if James had left their surnames out intentionally as he and Peter arrived back in the sitting room. “Pete! Remus!” James said just as jubilantly. “How’ve you been?”

“You’re acting like you haven’t seen us in years,” Remus said, grinning. “I Flooed yesterday, remember? Nothing that important could have happened!”

James shrugged, also smiling. Remus glanced at Sirius, curious as to why he had not said anything, and saw that he was having a rather intense staring contest with Remus’ father. Remus cleared his throat loudly. Ian tore his gaze away and turned to Mr and Mrs Potter.

“Charles, Emily, how have you been?”

“We’ve been doing very well,” Mrs Potter said, smiling. “I heard you are ill, though?” she asked, turning to Alex.

She nodded a bit uncomfortably; she didn’t know how much Remus had invented. “I’m feeling much better now, for the time being.”

Mr Potter nodded sympathetically. “This is very kind of you, to take on four eleven year olds. If James gives you  _ any _ trouble at all, tell us. He and Sirius both have been given strict instructions not to create too much havoc. You’re stressed enough as it is.”

Alex laughed. “I’m sure they’ll be on their best behavior.”

“We should be going, though,” Mrs Potter said, looking at her watch. “Charles, you have that meeting…”

“I’m sorry,” Mr Potter said, ruffling James’ hair and giving him and Sirius hugs. “I’d love to stay longer, but I have a meeting at the Ministry…”

“That’s perfectly all right,” Alex assured him. “Don’t let us hold you up!”

With a few more goodbyes, the elder Potters left, leaving Remus, his parents, and his friends in the sitting room. “We’ve got some rules, if you don’t mind,” Ian said. “There’s only two: don’t destroy our house…” they all laughed, “…and the cellar over there is off-limits.” He pointed to the appropriate door.

James opened his mouth—presumably to ask why—but Peter elbowed him hard, and he closed it again. Remus knew he would not be so quiet once they were in his room, but was grateful that Peter, at least, seemed to be on his side.

“So, if you’d like to go put your stuff up in Remus’ room, I’d like to have a quick word with him before you drag him away!”

* * *

James and Sirius followed Peter up to Remus’ room and dropped their duffels off. They were just about to go down the stairs when Sirius stuck out an arm to stop them. “What’re they talking about?” he whispered, barely making any sound. They all listened:

“…that she’s sick and I have to come and give blood for a potion to help because our blood types match,” Remus was saying. “And that she’s fine most of the time except for a few days out of the month.”

“That’s good,” Mr Lupin said. “It doesn’t lead to too many questions, does it?”

“Not too much anymore,” Remus answered. “It did before, especially from Sirius and James, but I think Peter might have said something because they don’t really bug me about it now.”

It seemed to Peter like Remus was genuinely glad that he had stood up for him. That made Peter brighten a bit; it sounded like Remus’ mum really was sick, and Remus really did not want to talk about it. Sirius grabbed his and James’ arms and dragged them back to Remus’ room, shutting the door behind them.

“He’s lying!” Sirius crowed triumphantly. “He made it all up and now he has to tell his parents the story so we won’t catch them!”

“Keep your voice down,” Peter warned. “It sounded to me like they just don’t want to tell us  _ everything _ about her illness, and Remus was just telling his dad what he told us…”

“So what was the bit about us questioning him, then?” Sirius challenged.

Peter glared at him. “If someone  _ you _ loved was sick, you wouldn’t want people asking all about it, would you? Mr Lupin just wants to make sure—”

“—That we’re not guessing anything!” Sirius finished angrily. “And—”

Before he could go on, James momentarily clapped a hand over his mouth and shot him a warning glance. Seconds later, Remus opened the door.

* * *

Remus began walking up the stairs once he was done talking to his father, but slowed down when he heard raised voices coming from his room.

“…you wouldn’t want people asking all about it, would you?” Peter was saying, sounding rather angry. 

_ I’ve never heard Peter angry…what’s going on? _

“…Mr Lupin just wants to make sure—”

But Sirius interrupted him. “—That we’re not guessing anything!” Remus froze, only a few steps away from the door.

_ Sirius doesn’t believe us! _ A shock of fear ran through him. He was sure that Sirius would take the news badly if he found out what Remus was.  _ And if he tells everyone— _

The voices had stopped, so Remus pulled himself together quickly and opened the door to his bedroom. Sirius and Peter still looked a bit red in the face, and James stood between them. “What did your dad want?” James asked casually.

“To tell me to make sure you guys don’t get too crazy,” he said.  _ Sure, he mentioned that… _

He saw Sirius glare pointedly at Peter. “What’s wrong?” Remus asked innocently.

“Me and Sirius were just arguing about who gets which sleeping bag,” Peter said quickly. Remus gave him a skeptical look—Peter was a good liar, but so was Remus—but didn’t press the subject. Obviously they did not want him to know they were suspicious, so Remus would humor them.

“Well, I’ve got Christmas presents for all of you,” he said, changing the subject quickly, “but only if you’re good and decide about the sleeping bags  _ without _ arguing…”

Their faces brightened considerably, and Remus was glad their attention could be so easily diverted. He pulled the presents out from under his bed and handed them to his friends, who dug around in their bags and pulled out presents for each other. 

Just then, Mrs Lupin called up the stairs, “Lunch is ready!”

They looked at each other for a moment before heading downstairs with the unopened presents, planning to open them after lunch. They bumped into a still-half-asleep Greta on the way down. “You’ll have to wait until after you eat to open those,” Alex said as they came into the kitchen. The seven of them all sat at the magically enlarged dining table and began eating the sandwiches she had prepared.

Conversation came easily, and even Ian and Sirius seemed to be warming to each other. “Have you guys done anything exciting at Hogwarts?” Ian asked them all. James’ face lit up.

“Of course we have! Hasn’t Remus told you  _ anything _ ?” And he and Sirius began telling them about all of their pranks, with Remus and Peter contributing every so often.

“You guys’ve been busy, then,” Alex said once they were finished. “Your grades aren’t suffering because of all this pranking, are they?”

“Mum!” Remus said, embarrassed. In truth, he knew James and Sirius did not have to study at all for any class, and were still doing better than both he and Peter.  _ Mum doesn’t need to know that _ .

“Oh, they’re excellent, don’t worry,” James said smoothly, giving Remus’ mother a winning smile. Alex smiled also, obviously convinced of the sincerity of Remus’ friends.

Eventually they finished lunch, and the boys pulled out their presents excitedly. “Whose should we open first?” Peter asked, gesturing to the three presents in front of him.”

The other first years shrugged. “Open the biggest first!” Greta suggested excitedly.

For James, Sirius, and Peter, that ended up being Remus’ present. The brown-haired boy waited a bit anxiously as they tore the paper off.

“Brilliant!” they all said at the same time.

“Where’d you find this, Remus? Merlin…!” Sirius asked in awe. “This is  _ awesome! _ ”

Peter and James also expressed gratitude for their presents. Next came Sirius’. He apparently had already given James his, so Remus and Peter tore off the paper quickly.

Sirius had gotten them elaborately embroidered Gryffindor scarves. The colors changed back and forth, and an animated lion prowled soundlessly across the bottom.

“I got one too,” James said cheerfully, “but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, so I left it in my bag.”

Peter’s presents were next: generous bags of candy from his mother’s shop. “I’ll be surprised if those last through the day,” Alex joked. Remus mock-glared at her as he and Peter reached for James’ presents. James watched eagerly as they opened the gift.

Inside the box was a bundle of tissue paper, which Remus quickly unwrapped. He saw a flash of shiny metal as the present fell into his hand, and he yelled as it burned his palm. He quickly dropped it back into the wrapping and hid his hand under the table, hoping nobody had noticed it.

“Are you all right?” James asked, looking alarmed.

“Fine,” Remus said, eyeing the present carefully. “Bit my tongue, is all.”

His friends seemed to accept that answer, so Remus carefully examined James’ present without touching it again. He quickly realized that it was a sculpted lion, a bit more than half a foot long, but could not immediately see what had burned him so badly.

“Let me see it,” Greta said innocently, reaching across the table to grab Remus’ lion. “How much did this cost? Merlin…” she said, recovering well from the initial terror obvious on her face.

“Not too much,” James said, shrugging. “My parents know some people who sell silver.”

Remus realized immediately what had caused his burns. His house had been completely free of anything made of the metal since he had been bitten, so he had never had any contact with it. After that experience, he was glad he had not. His hand still throbbed badly, and he hoped his father had something to heal it.

“Thanks, James,” he said, a bit belatedly, as Greta put the lion down again. “It’s amazing!”

“You’re welcome,” James said, beaming. Apparently he believed the rather forced enthusiasm. I thought you could put it in your room, or in the dorm, or something.”

Peter also expressed his gratitude, and added to Remus, “You’re sure you’re okay, though?”

“I didn’t bite it off, did I?” he joked. “I’ll be fine. Dad might want to check it, though, just to be sure.”

“We’ll go put these in your room then,” Peter said, grabbing Remus’ presents as well as his own. Remus smiled gratefully and followed his father into the kitchen, where he kept his healing supplies.

“How much of it touched you?” he asked quietly once Remus’ friends had gone upstairs. He opened his hand, revealing a nasty red burn in the middle of his palm. Ian winced in sympathy and pulled down a jar of ointment. “We’ll have to wrap it up, though…”

“I’ll say I touched the stove.”

His father grinned, smearing some of the salve onto his palm and wrapping it in a bandage. “I might have to change that in an hour or two…I’m not sure.”

The two of them walked out of the kitchen, and Remus headed up to his room. He could hear his friends talking.  _ Hopefully they’re not arguing about me again… _

* * *

James walked up to Remus’ bedroom again with Sirius and Peter and deposited his presents haphazardly on his sleeping bag. Peter put his down and carefully set down Remus’ as well, placing the lion on the dresser.

Sirius pulled out his candy from Peter. He examined a speckled green Bertie Bott’s before shrugging and tossing it in his mouth. “So, what was that all about?”

“He bit his tongue,” Peter said patiently, as if he were explaining something to a very small child. “He told us, didn’t he? Why would he lie about something like that?”

“He was talking fine,” Sirius countered. “And you know Remus—he’s got the highest pain tolerance of anyone. I don’t think he’d yell just because of that.”

“You’re reading too much into it,” James told him. “He bit his tongue. Even if he’s got a high pain tolerance, it still caught him by surprise. He's got every right to yell.”

Sirius harrumphed but could apparently find no flaw in his logic. They sat in silence for a few moments before Remus appeared in the doorway, looking cheerful.

“How’s your tongue?” James asked. Remus opened his mouth to answer, but Sirius cut him off, his eyes wide.

“What the hell happened to your  _ hand _ ?”

“I burned it on the stove,” Remus said immediately. “But I’m fine, don’t worry.”

James was satisfied with that answer.  _ Okay, he burned it on something hot. Logical enough. _

Sirius did not look convinced, though, and James sincerely hoped that he would not question their friend further. To distract Sirius, he asked the question he had been burning to know the answer to:

“Why’s your cellar off-limits?”

Remus walked over to his bed and sat down. “I’m not sure exactly. I guess Dad’s got some stuff down there he doesn’t want you to mess with.”

“But you’ve been down there?” Sirius pressed. “What’s so bad about it?”

“He doesn’t let me see, actually,” Remus said. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want anyone to go down.”

“Maybe it’s dark magic,” Peter mused, obviously not too serious about it.

“My dad doesn’t do dark magic,” Remus said, sounding a little angry.

“How can you be sure, though?” Sirius asked, latching onto the idea. “If you don’t know what he’s got down there how can you know it’s not dark?”

“He married a Muggle,” Remus countered, “and he practically  _ worships _ Dumbledore.”

“He could be acting—”

“Merlin, Sirius,” James said. Even he, master of ridiculous fantasies, thought it was getting a little ridiculous. “I’m pretty sure Mr Lupin isn’t a dark wizard. And Remus would know, wouldn’t he?”

Sirius looked defensively at the three faces glaring at him. “It was just an idea! Geez…”

“Well, it was a bad one,” Remus said sternly.

* * *

That night around twelve thirty, the boys had exhausted their conversation and decided to turn in. Sirius, however, couldn’t sleep. He was completely convinced that Remus knew what was in his cellar.  _ But why won’t he tell us _ ?

_ Maybe they’ve got a torture chamber down there. _ He could not stifle the snort, and James shifted in the sleeping bag next to him.

“Can’t sleep either?” his friend whispered. Sirius could see in the dim light that James had not even taken off his glasses.

“Nope—still thinking about the cellar,” Sirius answered quietly. “We should go check it out, while everyone’s asleep!” Excited by his own brilliance, he began to disentangle himself from his sleeping bag. 

“Wait!” James said suddenly. He began rummaging around in his trunk and finally emerged, holding a silver, water-like cloak. It took Sirius a moment in the dim light to figure out what it was, but when he did, he gasped rather loudly. “That’s an Invis—”

“I’ll explain later,” James promised, beckoning Sirius to go under the Cloak with him. After a bit of coordination and double-checking that their feet weren’t visible, the two walked carefully out the door and down the stairs.

Once in the living room, they made their way to the closed cellar door. Sirius stopped cold when his foot landed on something plastic. A loud squeak permeated the empty room.

“Chew toy,” James muttered, mystified. He picked it up. “Remus never said he had a dog…”

“C’mon,” Sirius urged him on. James pulled the cellar door open, and they both winced as it creaked. Sirius was vaguely surprised that it was not locked, but he pushed that thought away quickly.

“Let’s go,” he said, beginning down the stairs. James, however, was not moving away from the door. The chew toy fell loudly from his nerveless hand. “What is it?” Sirius asked impatiently.

James pointed soundlessly at the inside of the door, his eyes wide. Sirius looked; he barely stifled a gasp. The door was at least six inches thick and the inside had huge scratches criss-crossing it in every direction.

“What—” he began hoarsely.

The light turned on in the adjacent kitchen. Sharing a frightened glance, the two boys closed the door as quickly and quietly as they could and hurried down the stairs, engulfed in darkness.

“ _ Lumos _ !”

James’ whispered spell illuminated the room, and Sirius got a good look around him. The cellar was empty, which surprised him; he had thought it would hold some sort of impressive magic.

James whimpered next to him; Sirius noticed that the light illuminating the room was shaking badly. He was just about to ask what he was so scared of when he looked around again.

The walls and floor were splattered with dried blood and tufts of hair.

Sirius turned to James, who looked even more scared than he himself felt. “What the  _ hell _ —!”

“Who’s there?”

The door creaked open, and James hastily put his wand out. They were not blind for long; another wand lit quickly and descended the staircase.

“I know you’re here,” Greta said, and Sirius was immensely thankful they were still hidden under the cloak. “The only way out of here is back up where you came from. There’s nothing to steal, anyway, so you might as well leave.”

_ She thinks we’re robbers! _ Sirius realized suddenly. Greta began rotating in place, keeping care to stay directly in front of the narrow staircase.

“I’m armed,” she continued threateningly.

James nudged Sirius softly, and Sirius understood; it would be better for them to reveal themselves than for her to find them. As one, they took off the cloak. Greta’s face transformed quickly from threateningly to absolutely terrified.

“ _ What are you doing here _ ?”

“Remus wouldn’t tell us what’s down here,” Sirius said, “So we thought we’d—”

“It’s off-limits for a reason,” she said, glaring harshly at them. “I think you’ve seen enough. You’re lucky I’m not Obliviating you. Come upstairs.”

“Hang on,” James said, finding his voice again. “What’s all this from? All the blood and—”

“It’s none of your business,” she snapped. “This is why Dad didn’t want you down here, see?” She beckoned them up the stairs again. “C’mon.”

“Why didn’t Remus tell—”

“Because he doesn’t know what’s down here. We don’t ever use it—there’s no reason for him to know.”

“There’s no reason for him  _ not _ to know,” Sirius countered. “It’s his house, isn’t it? If he wants to—”

They had reached the top of the stairs by this time, and once they were out, Greta shut the door again. “If you so much as _ mention _ this cellar to Remus or Peter, I will personally see to it that you are kicked out of here,” she said menacingly.

Sirius was very confused.  _ Why does it matter if Remus knows something about his own house? _ “But…” he started. Greta’s wand came to rest between his eyes. He laughed, but James twitched nervously beside him.

“You’re only sixteen,” Sirius said, unfazed. “The Ministry would—”

“I turned seventeen on the twenty-first,” she ground out, her eyes flashing impatiently. “If you tell either of your friends, my father will have a few choice words as well…”

“You’re not going to tell him now?” James asked, looking surprised.

“No reason to, is there?” Greta’s wand was still trained on Sirius’ face. “Let’s just keep this our little secret. Then you won’t do any more harm.”

She glared at both of them until they nodded. “Good. Now go back to bed.” She put her wand in her pocket and walked up the stairs behind them. She wished them a terse “good night” before going into the room next to Remus’ and slamming the door. 

Sirius quietly shut Remus’ door while James clutched his Invisibility Cloak as if it were his only hope of survival. He was whiter than a sheet, and Sirius knew he must have looked similar. Without saying a word to each other, the two got into their sleeping bags.

To Sirius, the idea of the Lupins having a secret torture chamber did not seem too far-fetched any more.


	21. Chapter 21

The week passed quickly for Remus.

Everything seemed normal, except that James and Sirius seemed to be actively avoiding the cellar door. Remus thought this was odd, but he figured it was best not to bring it up. Peter, of course, never mentioned it.

On the last evening of the visit, as Peter, James, and Sirius were packing their trunks, Sirius abruptly looked up.

“Remus, what do you think of dogs?”

His mouth nearly dropped open, but he caught himself just in time.  _ They know already? _ He thought he had been so careful, so convincing…

“What?” he asked, buying himself time.  _ Though we might as well get it over with _ .

“He’s being a prat,” James intervened, shaking his head.  _ But James wouldn’t still be here, would he…? _ “We just saw an old chew toy in your living room the other day. I guess I didn’t realize you had a dog.”

Remus nearly sagged with relief, but again he stopped himself. “Oh, that must be my cousins’,” he invented. “They visited over the summer and brought their dog along. I’m surprised it’s still sitting around…”

“While you were here?” Peter asked, surprised. “I thought you hated dogs!”

The brown-haired boy was very confused.  _ Think, Remus, think— _

“Your neighbor’s dog attacked you, right?” he elaborated, a little uncertain. “If I got mauled by a dog I wouldn’t like them.”

“Oh, that was a really big dog—my cousins just have a little yippy one. I could probably kick it halfway through the forest,” he joked. The other three laughed as well and dropped the subject.

* * *

That night, the four of them were getting ready for bed. Without thinking, Remus pulled off his turtleneck sweater, leaving his long-sleeved shirt on underneath.

“Merlin—!”

Remus immediately realized his mistake. He had been able to hide the wounds on his neck all week by wearing sweaters with tall necks, but that was all shot to hell now.

“What happened to your neck?” James asked, his voice rather high.

“It’s nothing,” he promised quickly.  _ Too quickly? _

“Nothing?” Sirius asked incredulously, moving closer to see the scratches. “If that’s nothing, I’d hate to see—”

“I swear, it’s not a big deal!” Remus said loudly, backing up as Sirius advanced.

“It looks like you were attacked by a ruddy animal!” Sirius cried. There was something in his eyes that Remus could not make out.

“Just shut up about it, all right?” Remus said loudly. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Sirius gave him a piercing look. “Something’s off about you,” he said finally. A thrill of fear tore through the werewolf.

“Maybe you’ll find out what it is someday,” Remus said shortly, fighting to keep his voice level.  _ But I hope to Merlin you don’t. _

Sirius stared at him for a moment longer before finally turning toward his sleeping bag. Nobody said another word the rest of the night.

* * *

By the time break ended, the wounds on Remus’ neck were completely healed. He hoped his friends might have forgotten about them entirely.

_ Fat chance. _

After saying good-bye to their parents, Remus and Greta boarded the Hogwarts Express. They soon parted ways when Remus saw Sirius’ face plastered to the window of a compartment. When he saw Remus, he waved cheerfully. Remus quickly stowed his luggage above a seat and sat down next to James.

“I’ve missed you so much!” Sirius yelled dramatically, flinging himself at him and holding fast to his arm. Remus raised an eyebrow.

“I saw you a week ago…you can’t miss me  _ that _ much!” 

“But how could we ever get along without you telling us what we can and can’t do?” James asked, sounding  _ almost _ serious and attaching himself to Remus’ other arm. Remus looked over Sirius’ head at Peter, who shrugged.  _ There’s not much we can do _ , his look said, and Remus had to admit he had a point.

“Yes, guys, I’m glad to see you too,” Remus said condescendingly, patting both of them on the head with a bit of difficulty. “Now, unless you want someone to walk by, look in the window and assume we’re all gay, I suggest you get off of me.”

Grinning, James and Sirius detached themselves from Remus’ arms. “Only for you, Remmie-pie.”

Remus rolled his eyes and cast hopefully around for a change of subject. Sirius beat him to it.

“So, how’s your neck?”

Peter elbowed him. Sirius glared at the blonde boy for a moment, but soon turned back to Remus, obviously expecting an answer.

“It’s fine, I promise,” Remus said exasperatedly.

“Are we using  _ your _ definition of fine or everyone  _ else’s _ ?” Sirius pressed.

“Everyone else’s,” Remus said, rolling his eyes again.”It doesn’t hurt at all. Of course, it didn’t hurt before, either…” The others looked skeptical, so he pulled the collar of his shirt down a bit to show the unmarked skin. “Happy?”

“Hey, guess what I got for Christmas!” James said loudly, changing the subject quickly.

“What?” Peter said, eager to ease the tense situation.

“Close your eyes,” James instructed excitedly. They all complied, and Remus heard him open his trunk and something swish before he was told to look again.

James was not there.

“Very funny. You got nothing, then?” he joked.

“Of course not, Lupin,” James’ voice came from his seat.

Peter gasped loudly. “An  _ Invisibility Cloak _ ?”

James’ head suddenly appeared again, floating in the ear. “Correct, Mr Pettigrew. Think of everything we can do with this thing…”

* * *

He did not bring the topic up again, but Sirius had definitely not forgotten the enormous wounds that had marred his friend’s neck. Remus went to sleep quickly after dinner, but Sirius had different plans for his night. He dragged Peter and James down the steps into the common room. Everyone was in bed already, so they had the room to themselves.

“Those were not normal scratches,” he began. James rolled his eyes.

“This again, Sirius? Why can’t you let it drop?”

“Because there’s something weird about his entire family,” Sirius said hotly. “And you saw that cellar, it—”

“You guys snuck into the cellar?” Peter said, a little angry. “Mr Lupin told us not to!”

“We wanted to see what was there because nobody would tell us!” Sirius told his friend what they had seen.

“Merlin…” was all that Peter seemed to be able to say.

“We don’t know what could’ve made it that way…Greta said they never use it, so it must have been like that when they moved in.”

“You’re over thinking this,” James snapped, standing up from his armchair. “I’m going to bed. If you want to have any more secret meetings about friends, count me out.” He walked upstairs and out of sight.

Sirius turned to Peter. “Do you think I’m overreacting?”

“If there’s something wrong with Remus, it’s his own business,” he said slowly. “But, there’s something off about him, you’re right.”

* * *

Lessons started the next day. Most of their teachers plunged them immediately back into their schoolwork, especially the strict Professor McGonagall. Remus had come to greatly respect her, especially because of what she was doing for him.

After class that Monday, he stayed back, telling his friends to go on to Potions without him.

“Is the animal thing going to work?” he asked casually. She looked up from her desk.

“I won’t know what animal I’ll turn into until actually complete the transformation,” she said regretfully. “I think it’s going to be some sort of cat, but nobody can be sure. Even that is very vague.”

“So you could be either a lion or a housecat,” Remus said, a bit downcast. Whatever he led the professor to believe, he truly hoped that she was a big enough animal.  _ It can’t hurt…it may even help. _

“Exactly. We will wait and see. If I stay on track, I should complete it by late March or early April.”

_ Three more transformations. _ Remus knew his professor was thinking the same thing.

“Go to Potions, Mr Lupin. I will tell you when I complete it.”

* * *

Most of the first years were eagerly anticipating the second term’s Defense lessons. Neasce had promised that they would cover the bigger, more dangerous dark creatures after break.

Remus was not so excited.

His classmates were chatting animatedly about how they would be covering vampires, lethifolds, and  _ werewolves _ , and Remus thought he might be sick. Sirius was already suspicious of something being wrong, and if he matched all the symptoms to him, it was only a matter of time…

The week after the start of term, Remus walked into Neasce’s class full of dread. The Gryffindor boys sat in the very back row of the room as they always did, and Remus fervently hoped that they would not pay the slightest bit of attention to the lecture.

His friends did not disappoint. Though Peter seemed to be half paying attention, James and Sirius were not even pretending. Remus, not wanting to arouse suspicion, dutifully wrote down the facts that he knew all too well.

“We will only be covering the basics of werewolves and vampires,” Neasce had said at the beginning of term. “You will study them in much greater detail when you are older.”

Remus thanked Merlin for this small blessing, but he could not help but with that the lesson had not been added to the curriculum at all.

“Mr Black!” Neasce said sharply halfway through the lesson. Sirius snapped his head around and pretended he had been listening attentively the whole time.

“Yes, Professor?”

“If you have been listening, sure you would know who one of the most infamous werewolves of modern times is?”

“That Greyback guy,” Sirius said easily, giving the professor a winning smile.

“And what does he do that makes him so infamous, Mr Potter?”

“He’s the one that attacks little kids and wants to create a werewolf  _ army _ …”

“Very good. I’m glad you two can pay attention to the lecture and to your own conversation at the same time.”

“It’s a talent,” Sirius whispered to Remus, who rolled his eyes but grinned a bit anyway.

The lesson seemed to drag on and on. Finally, the bell rang. Everyone sped out of the classroom, eager to get to lunch after being assigned a chapter to read for the following Tuesday.

“A whole  _ chapter _ on werewolves?” Sirius whined as they helped themselves to turkey sandwiches.

“Maybe if you had paid attention in class you’d be able to just skim it,” Remus said sarcastically. Sirius gasped in mock-horror.

“Us? Pay attention?”

“You’re right, I guess that’s too much to ask,” Remus laughed. “How’d you guys know the answers to his questions, then?”

“Oh, it was easy,” Sirius sad, waving his hand dismissively. “My parents talk about Greyback all the time, say he and his kind are scum and all that. It’s one of the only things I agree with them about. Well, I guess I’ve never met one, but…they’re all the same, aren’t they?”

Remus made a non-committal noise and quickly— _ hopefully not too obviously _ —became quite interested in taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

_ Two down _ . James and Sirius had both expressed their hatred of werewolves. Though Peter had not said anything either way, he was sure to agree with the others if the situation arose.  _ That’s just the way he is. He avoids conflict at all costs. _

“How’d you know what Greyback does?” Peter asked James interestedly.

“He’s the one that almost got me, you know,” he said lightly. Remus looked up, also intrigued.

“How do you know who it was? I thought they run off before they change back?”

James nodded. “We didn’t see him turn, but Mum had been rude to him at St. Mungo’s before. Greyback’s all for revenge,” he continued. “He goes after little kids because he knows that’ll hurt more than biting the adults.”

“Wow,” Sirius said, for once at a loss for words. Peter and Remus nodded their agreement.

“Not all werewolves are like that, though, are they?” Peter asked after a moment. “I mean, Greyback’s a worst-case scenario. Don’t a lot of them lock themselves up so they can’t attack humans? Neasce said that’s the Ministry regulation.”

“Sure, a couple of them might do that,” James acknowledged dismissively; he sounded doubtful that it ever happened. “But the majority would rather hurt others. It’s in their nature.”

Remus had felt a bit better at Peter’s words, but his heart sank again when the blonde nodded his agreement to James’ statement.  _ Three of three. What happens if they find out? _

* * *

Remus was quite relieved when, on the following Tuesday, Neasce only gave them a quiz on werewolves and moved on to the next topic. Nobody seemed at all the wiser that one of the monsters they had discussed less than a week ago was sitting in their classroom.

Another full moon passed, a good one by Remus’ standards. His friends seemed no more suspicious than they already were. That month, Remus and Greta had decided to simply say that Remus himself was sick. Greta was quick to point out that it was not a lie at all. He returned a couple of days later from the Hospital Wing in high spirits.

“Did you say you were visiting your mum again?” Peter asked soon after he arrived.

“No, it was me who was sick this time,” Remus said lightly, accepting copies of the notes he had missed from James.

“I thought you said her illness comes back every month!” Sirius said, obviously confused. “It’s been about a month since Christmas, hasn’t it?”

Remus felt like smacking himself for overlooking this key point. “Dad said it didn’t show up hardly at all. It’s lucky I didn’t have to go—I was too sick to do much.”

“Yeah, what’d you have?” James asked. “Not much can keep people out for that long…”

“I think Madame Pomfrey said it was a really bad case of pneumonia,” Remus invented quickly. “Her regular spells wouldn’t work, so she had to do a little research. That’s what took so long for me to get better.” He laughed a bit. “One too many snowball fights, I guess.”

* * *

The next two months were nearly torture for Remus. Each Transfiguration lesson was marked with a hopeful glance from Remus and a subtle shake of the head from his professor.

Two transformations came and went. By the end of March, Remus was beginning to lose hope that Professor McGonagall would ever complete the transfiguration.

As March threatened to turn into April, James began to wear a grin that unsettled Remus a bit. “Mates,” the black-haired boy finally said one night in their dormitory, “do you know what Friday is?”

“The weekend?” Remus suggested cheekily. James sent him a withering glare. Remus only grinned back.

“Any other guesses?” James asked, turning to the other two boys.

“April first!” Sirius said joyfully.

“Right you are, Mr Black. And who knows what special occasion happens on April first?”

Remus groaned loudly and buried his head in his arms. “Mr Lupin knows!” James said, Remus would have bet a large sack of Galleons that he was grinning madly. “Would you mind sharing?”

Remus only grunted. Apparently unperturbed, James pressed the other two for an answer. Finally, James got Sirius to confess that that particular date heralded the arrival of what James dubbed “our only chance to raise Hell and get away with it!”

“We have to do  _ something _ to celebrate this holiday!” James continued. Remus lifted his head from his arms to raise an eyebrow at his friend.

“I don’t think I’d call it a  _ holiday _ …”

“Of  _ course _ it’s a holiday! James looked horrified at the thought that it might not be.

“Well, we have to pull a prank anyway,” Sirius intervened. “It has to be good, the best we’ve pulled so far. So, boys, what will it be?”


	22. Chapter 22

Though Remus had initially been reluctant to pull pranks at Hogwarts—they were there to  _ learn _ !—he had to admit that he enjoyed the thrill of the moment, the feeling of triumph when one was pulled off successfully and they were not caught.

For this reason, he joined in whole-heartedly for the April Fool’s Day prank. Remus and Peter ventured to the library to look up new spells or potions. James and Sirius opted to stay behind in the common room and search for things in their class books.

“I’m allergic to libraries,” Sirius had informed them when Remus questioned it.

He had accepted this explanation a little skeptically, but Remus went to the library all the same. “Peter, you go look in the Charms section,” he said. “I’ll look in Potions.” The blonde boy nodded and headed that way quickly. Remus went the other way and began glancing over the books in the Potions section.

Engrossed in the titles, Remus was not paying attention to where he was going, and he bumped into something very solid. The thing pushed back, and Remus barely kept his balance.

“Watch where you’re going, Lupin.”

Severus Snape glared at him, obviously expecting a reply. “Sorry, Severus,” Remus said quickly. Of all the insane ideas his friends had—and they had many of them—the one Remus least understood was their hatred of Severus Snape. Remus admitted that he needed to be properly introduced to a shower and a bar of soap, but that did not seem like a good enough reason to tease someone incessantly.

“Oh, not ‘Snivellus’ this time?” Severus asked in mock surprise. “Or ‘Snivelly,’ or whatever else you’ve come up with?” Before Remus could reply, the Slytherin sent him a nasty glare and stalked away down the aisle.

A bit dazed by the entire encounter, Reus picked a few books that looked promising and brought them to a table near the center of the library where Peter was already sitting.

“What took you so long?” Peter asked incredulously.

“Got held up by Severus Snape,” Remus said, sitting down. His friend made a sympathetic noise.

“You’ll have to take a few showers to get rid of the smell!”

“Why do you three hate him so much?” Remus asked the other boy seriously.

Peter shrugged. “He’s a Slytherin. That’s reason enough for James and Sirius. Plus, he just seems  _ mean _ .”

“So you’re saying if I were in Slytherin and kept to myself a lot, you’d hate me too?”

He shrugged again. “Probably. I mean, we wouldn’t really know you, would we?” He set down the book he was holding. “You don’t  _ like _ him, do you?”

“No,” Remus said slowly, “I just don’t think you should hate him. I mean, you don’t really know him at all.”

The blonde boy looked a bit thrown by his logic, and couldn’t seem to think of a reply. Instead, he picked up his book again and flipped unenthusiastically through the index.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Peter set down his book again. “Remus?”

“Yeah?”

“You know if there’s something wrong with you, you can tell us…” Peter was speaking rather quickly, as if he was afraid he would lose his nerve. Remus got the impression that he had been working up the courage to ask him the whole time. “I don’t think there’s anything so bad you couldn’t tell us.”

Remus almost came up with a smart comeback, but then he saw the earnestness in his friend’s face. “There’s nothing wrong with me, I promise,” he assured Peter. “My mum’s the one you should worry about.”

“There still isn’t a cure?” Peter asked sympathetically. Remus shook his head. “Well, Sirius is completely convinced that you’re the one who’s sick. He won’t listen to reason at all, especially after he and James went into your cellar—” Peter froze suddenly, going pale.

Remus felt the color drain from his face as well. “They  _ what _ ?” he asked hoarsely.

“While we were staying over Christmas,” Peter said, looking terrified that Remus might be angry. “You didn’t know what was in there so they went and looked for themselves.”

“What did they find?” Remus was trying very hard not to panic. He knew Peter was more trusting than Sirius, but he was also more perceptive.

“They said there was blood everywhere…” Peter shivered, and Remus adopted an appropriately shocked and confused face. “Then your sister found them—”

“What?”  _ She never told me! _

“Yeah, and made them swear never to tell you. I don’t know why they want to keep it from you, really…”

Remus shrugged. “I don’t know why we’d have a bloody cellar…it must have been the people before us.”

“That’s what Greta said. It’s still kind of spooky, though, you know? I don’t think I’ve ever seen James so scared as when he was talking about it. Even Sirius looked spooked.”

“Well, there really isn’t much else to say about it, is there?” Remus said, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.

Before Peter could reply, a loud voice yelled through the library—”Remus! Peter! You here?”

Both boys spun around to see James and Sirius speeding toward their table, followed by a harsh glare and unheard reprimand from Madame Pince. James was waving a book around madly; all Remus could see of the cover was that it was not one of their own.

“What is that?” he asked warily.

“It’s a fourth-year magical creatures book,” Sirius said impatiently. Anyway, some bloke, Carl Dearborn or something, was complaining about the Nifflers in Kettleburn’s class—”

“The  _ what _ ?” Peter asked in confusion.

“They’re little gold digger things,” James continued. “Anyway, he even mentioned that Kettleburn’s keeping them outside with Hagrid where they can’t cause any trouble!”

Remus groaned loudly. Before he could say anything, however, Sirius clapped a hand over his mouth. “We’ll explain in the dorm. C’mon!”

* * *

Minerva McGonagall woke up on the first of April filled with dread. She steeled herself for what she was sure would assail her as she made herself presentable and walked out her door.

Nothing.

She was suddenly very uneasy. From years of experience, she knew that no immediate prank meant that a more extravagant one would come later. Either that, or it was much more subtle. She couldn’t decide which was the worst as she entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

_ Nothing. _

Nobody looked the least bit suspicious, even the first year Gryffindor boys. Every student in the hall looked completely innocent.  _ Too innocent _ ?

“Minerva, eat before the food gets cold,” Albus suggested lightly. “If anything will come, it will not be now.”

Minerva’s first class, fifth year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, did not pay much attention to the lecture. Many of them played small pranks on each other throughout the hour and a half. Finally, twenty minutes before the bell, Minerva assigned them two chapters to read and an essay, and sat down heavily behind her desk.

_ Tonight _ .

Her instructor, an ancient wizard who was one of the few Animagi in the world, had told her during the last lesson that if all went according to plan, she would successfully transfigure herself that very night. Minerva was both excited and apprehensive.  _ What if I’m too small? _

Just then, a girl in the back of the classroom screamed. Minerva jumped up, and the entire class turned around in surprise. Hanging off the girl’s ear was a furry, black something that seemed to want nothing more than to chew her earring off.

“ _ Stupefy _ !”

It was not the most creative of spells, but it did its job. The creature, though not completely knocked out, let go of the Slytherin’s ear and fell onto the desk, where it staggered drunkenly about. Minerva ran to the desk while the terrified girl’s friends attempted to calm her.

“Go to Madame Pomfrey for a Calming Drought,” Minerva instructed. As they ran off, Minerva picked the thing up warily; it weakly began pushing toward her ring.

“Isn’t that a Niffler?” someone asked loudly. Minerva, though not especially skilled at identifying magical creatures, thought he was right. Then she noticed something painted on the thing’s side.

_ 56. _

The color drained from her face as she realized what this meant. “Take off any jewelry you’re wearing,” she said to the class as calmly as she could. “There’s more of them.”

* * *

After the bell rang, every teacher was in Professor Dumbledore’s office holding at least one Niffler. Minerva thought her revelation that there were 56 of them was bad until she saw that one of Slughorn’s was labeled 73.

Dumbledore addressed Professor Kettleburn. “How many did you have for your class?”

“Seventy-five,” he said faintly. “So if they loosed all of them…” Nobody wanted to think of the possibilities.

“Professor Dumbledore, sir!” Hagrid came into the office, his face pale. Minerva’s stomach dropped. “Th’ niffers’re gone, all of ‘em…”

Several teachers swore. “What are we going to do, Albus?” Filius asked.

“We’ll have to round them up. Announce that classes are cancelled for the rest of the day. Bring all prefects to the Great Hall. We need to start as soon as possible.”

* * *

“Classes have been cancelled today,” Slughorn said to his first year students. “Teachers and prefects will be rounding up the Nifflers for the rest of the day. Stay in your common room—you’re probably the safest there. Lunch and dinner will be sent to you unless we find all of them.” Nobody moved. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go!”

The students were clear of the classroom in seconds. Everyone quickly made their way back to their common rooms, talking excitedly all the while.

“I wonder who did this?”

“How many are there?”

“Cancelled classes?!”

“What  _ are _ these things, anyway?”

James and Sirius contained their excitement until they were safely in their dorm room. “This is even better than I thought!” Sirius said excitedly as people began screaming on the floors below; they had put Nifflers in each of the common rooms as well.

“What happens if they don’t find all of them, though?” Peter asked, a little apprehensive. “I mean, there’re so many…”

“They will,” James said with the utmost confidence.

Something snuffled ominously under Remus’ bed. Sirius bent down and retrieved a Niffler labeled 27. “We’d better bring this to the common room. I expect they’re rounding up all the ones in the tower.”

* * *

Several hours later, Minerva stood in the Great Hall with the other searchers. The prefects were counting and recounting the Nifflers in their magical cages, but kept coming up with the same number: 

Seventy-four.

“We’ve searched the upper floors again,” Amelia Bones said to her head of house; she looked exhausted. “We can’t find the last one anywhere.”

“It’s not in the dungeons, either,” a Hufflepuff announced.

“You checked all the common rooms?” Minerva asked Amelia. She nodded. “Do you think it might have gone outside?”

“I don’t see why it would,” another prefect said. “There’s nothing to attract it…”

“Maybe if we found out who set them loose?” Pomona Sprout suggested. “Maybe they could tell us where the last one is…”

“Maybe we should ask your first years, Minerva,” Filius Flitwick suggested, laughing. “I’ll bet they had something to do with it!”

Minerva groaned; why had she not immediately thought to question them? She stood a few minutes later in the doorway to the first year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory. The boys were all looking up at her from their card game, innocent looks plastered on their faces.

“You let those Nifflers into the school, didn’t you?” she said coldly, her tone saying she knew the answer already.

“It was all in good fun, Minnie,” Sirius Black said, grinning lazily at her.

She was about to respond when his words sunk in. “ _ What _ did you call me?”

“Your name’s Minerva, right? It’s such a long name and it’s easy to forget…so we decided to shorten it. Easier on the tongue and all that.”

“You will address me as ‘Professor,’” Minerva said stiffly. Black saluted.

“Anything for you!”

“So, you  _ were _ the ones who set them loose,” she got back on topic again. “How many did you release?”

“Merlin, we numbered them and everything,” James Potter said, rolling his eyes comically. “Tried to help you out, you know.”

“That’s the problem,” she replied through gritted teeth. “We can’t find number sixteen.”

“You know,” Peter Pettigrew said to his friends, “I’ve never liked the number sixteen.”

“Neither have I,” Potter agreed. “Seventy-four is a much better number.”

Minerva realized what they meant. “Very well. You all will be serving detention with me tomorrow and Sunday at seven in the evening, and fifty points from Gryffindor!”

Their faces fell. “No arguments. I will see you tomorrow.”

* * *

“How was your day, Minerva?” Caiaph, her instructor, asked as she walked into the Animagus practice room that night.

“It could have been better,” she said, sitting in the chair heavily. “A group of first years set seventy-four Nifflers loose in the school—” her teacher laughed heartily, “—and led us to believe there were seventy-five.”

“That’s a good prank,” he admitted. “They seem to be quite the troublemakers, those first years of yours.”

Minerva shook her head. “They’re terrible. But, we’re not here to discuss my students.”

“Quite right…”

Half an hour later, Caiaph had explained to her that all she had left to do was to look inside herself and let herself go. Because of all their preparation—nearly a year and a half of it—he assured her that it should not take long at all.

Ten minutes into the silence, something finally  _ clicked. _ Minerva quickly raised her wand, performing the complicated wand movement they had practiced for two weeks, and speaking the long incantation she had rehearsed for three more.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, and she wondered if perhaps she had done the spell wrong. But then, her body began changing.

It was not painful, but it was an altogether unsettling experience. Because of this, it took her a moment to realize that she was shrinking.

_ Shrinking? _

Before she could ponder this terrifying thought any longer, her body stopped changing. Thoughts that were not hers crowded her mind—

_ Prey. Is it prey? No, just toy. String—play? Toy means play. But threat there! No, just table. Not threat… _

“Minerva!”

The loud voice silenced the thoughts for a moment. “You must focus! You mustn’t lose yourself to the animal!”

Using mental strength she did not realize she possessed, Minerva pushed the animal’s thoughts out of her mind. “If you can understand me and control yourself, stomp your right front paw three times.” She did so. “Excellent. Now…” he pulled out a mirror and squatted down to show her the reflection.

_ How small am I?! _

Minerva nearly panicked when she saw an average-sized housecat looking back at her. Its— _ her _ —fur was dark like her hair, and there were odd patterns around her eyes in place of her glasses.

She did not focus on such small details as that for long. The most important thing was that when Caiaph stood up again she did not even reach his knees, and she was sure something as small as a cat would not last long with a werewolf.

But, of course, her instructor could not know that she was so horribly disappointed in her new form. He was grinning broadly, obviously proud of her accomplishment. She tottered about the room for a while, getting accustomed to the new point of view and the two extra legs.

She was trying very hard not to imagine Remus Lupin’s crestfallen face when she showed him what she changed into. She knew he would not be angry with her, but he would of course be disappointed.

_ I shouldn’t have told him, _ she realized a bit belatedly.  _ I got his hopes up when we weren’t even sure it would work. _

“Minerva?” Caiaph’s voice came from somewhere above her. “Are you ready to change back?”

She nodded. “Good. For this first change, I must help you with a spell, but you also need to focus on your human form, like you did before.”

Her instructor said the spell, and she thought of nothing but her human body, pushing thoughts of her student out of her head. Several seconds later she stood as a human again.

“The change will get quicker as you practice it more,” Caiaph assured her. “After a week or two it should be instantaneous.” Minerva nodded, her mind elsewhere. “Now, of course you have paperwork to fill out to be registered with the Ministry…” he gestured to a thick stack of paper on his desk.

“Do you think…could we do that later?” Minerva asked quickly. “I should be getting back to Hogwarts…it’s been a long day. I don’t want to fall asleep halfway through.”

“Of course,” he said immediately. “Whenever those boys are done with their detentions, then?”

“Monday?”

“Sounds good. And, congratulations again, Minerva,” he said, giving her a hug. “This is no small feat that you’ve accomplished. You should be proud of yourself.”

After promising to meet again at eight on Monday, Minerva Flooed to her office and sat down heavily at her desk. She was still trying not to imagine Remus Lupin’s disappointment, but it was difficult.

She decided she needed to do something, and telling the headmaster the news seemed like a good idea. She took the long way up to his office, dreading what he would say.

“What you brings you here at this hour, Minerva?” Albus asked her as she sat down in the nearest chair.

“I just got back from my Animagus lesson.”

“Did you finish it?” he asked, looking pleased. She nodded slowly. “Well?”

“I’m almost positive I’m not big enough,” she said, very upset. “I’m a cat.”

His eyes softened. “You may still be able to help…how big of a cat are you?”

A few seconds later, she was transformed, and Dumbledore looked down at her sadly.

“I doubt that will be large enough,” he agreed. “When I went into the safehouse a few months ago to check, the paw prints were enormous—I think he could crush you easily if he tried.”

Minerva focused on changing back, and a few seconds later she sat in the chair as herself again. “So what do we do?”

“You must tell him, of course. And you could demonstrate your accomplishment to all of your classes. I’m sure they will be impressed.”

She nodded slowly, standing up. “I’ll tell him after his detention tomorrow.”

He also nodded, very grave. “Remember, Minerva, this is not your fault. What animal you turn into is out of your control.”

* * *

“Mr Lupin, a word please?”

Remus looked back, confused, at his professor. He and his friends had just finished their detention on Saturday night, and all he wanted to do was go to his dormitory and sleep.

McGonagall gestured for his friends to leave, and they did so, obviously confused. Remus walked up to his professor’s desk, where she stood looking at him with just a trace of sadness.

“I have good news and bad news,” she said after a moment of quiet. Remus was even more confused.  _ Why is she telling me this? _ He began thinking of things that she might want to tell him without his friends. After a few seconds, the most reasonable answer came to mind:

“You can change into an animal now?” he asked hopefully, looking up at her. Remus saw something flicker in his professor’s eyes; he got the impression that she was trying very hard to keep her composure. Remus, meanwhile, was attempting to keep his excitement from boiling over.  _ I won’t have to be alone anymore! I won’t beat myself up as much! I— _

His thoughts stopped abruptly when instead of his professor, an average-sized tabby cat sat on the desk.

“Oh.” Remus’ good mood evaporated; he could think of nothing else to say. Their plan had failed. He had not considered for more than a moment the possibility that it would not work; it had not even crossed his mind that he would be too big to handle.  _ Why did she get my hopes up if she was just going to change into a cat? _ A shock of anger tore through him.  _ Couldn’t she have chosen a different— _

Meanwhile, McGonagall was changing back into her human self. “I can’t choose what animal I am, Remus,” she said softly. The boy barely registered the use of his first name as thoughts continued to mill around in his head.  _ Why did she even suggest it if she didn’t know if it would work? _ He looked up; any anger he had felt vanished when he saw the tears in his professor’s eyes.

“Remus, I’m so sorry,” she began. “If there was any way—”

“It’s not your fault,” he said quickly, attempting to reassure her and make up for his temporary loss of control. His voice cracked all the same. “Like you said, you don’t choose what you turn into.” He turned to walk away. “I’ll see you at tomorrow’s detention, then?”

A strangled sob came from behind him, and he turned back around. “I’m so sorry…” Remus had never seen his professor look so lost.

“It’s all right. It’s not your fault,” he assured her again. Or was he telling himself? “Don’t blame yourself.”

She nodded slightly, and he left her office, tears of his own threatening to fall from his eyes.


	23. Chapter 23

Peter dreaded the end of the school year as each day passed. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his family—he just wished he could see his friends every day over the break.

James had explained excitedly one morning over breakfast how he and his parents were going to go to Switzerland for two weeks in late July, and then would be visiting a few distant cousins in Germany for two more. When asked, Remus had informed them that he would probably be staying home.

“Some of my cousins might visit,” he had said, “but we aren’t doing anything very exciting.”

Sirius, of course, was going back to his parents’ house. Peter had promised him refuge at his own house as soon as he could get away, and Sirius had accepted willingly, scowling at the thought of his family.

“We’ll all write,” Remus promised bracingly on the last day before the holidays, but Sirius just shrugged.

“You haven’t even met my mother. She’s still angry that I’m in Gryffindor. I don’t know if she’ll even let me write to you.”

“How could you convince her to let you stay with me, then?” Peter asked. “We’re not rich or anything…”

“Your mother’s a pureblood?” Sirius asked, obviously thinking hard. James and Remus scowled, but Peter thought he might know what his friend was thinking.

“Yeah, her maiden name’s Greengrass.”

Sirius’ face lit up. “Excellent! My parents know a few Greengrasses, think they’re a good family.”

Peter was a little apprehensive. “My mum doesn’t quite see eye-to-eye with the rest of them…I don’t think they’ve talked in years.”

Sirius grinned. “My mother doesn’t need to know that!”

* * *

Soon enough, the four boys were standing on Platform 9 ¾, looking around for their parents. Spotting his, Remus looked around at them and said, “I’ll see you all later?”

The others nodded, and he disappeared into the smoky haze of the platform. James soon left as well, promising to write and to take as many pictures as he could.

A minute after James had left, Sirius sighed quietly. “Here they come.”

Someone who Peter could only assume was Walburga Black approached the two boys. “Good evening, Sirius,” she said coldly. A boy, only a year or two younger than Sirius, smirked from behind her.

“Mother,” Sirius said, with rather forced kindness.

“Who is this?” she nearly shrieked, spotting Peter. He had almost been successful in slipping away, but he stepped forward resignedly, prepared to introduce herself.

Sirius beat him to it. “This is Peter. His mother is Susan Greengrass.”

Mrs Black’s face relaxed just the tiniest of bits. “You’re a pureblood, then?” her face dared him to say no.

“Of course, ma’am,” he said, delivering the only possible reply.

“Actually, Peter and his mother have invited me to stay for part of the summer at their home,” Sirius looked far more docile than Peter had ever seen him. “If that’s all right with you and Father, of course…”

_ Why is he acting like this? _ From what Peter knew of Sirius, he would never be so kind and submissive to someone he hated so much.

Then he realized, as he listened to Sirius try to convince his mother of Peter’s credibility, that it was the only way Mrs Black would ever agree to let Sirius out of her grasp. She had not known that Sirius stayed at the Potters’ and the Lupins’ over Christmas, and Peter was sure she would be furious if she ever found out.

“You will be allowed to visit for part of the summer,” Mrs Black finally acquiesced, “as long as you behave while you are in our house.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Sirius said, and Peter detected the tiniest note of relief in his voice.

“We must be going,” Mrs Black said. “Sirius, you will Floo your friend when we have decided when you will visit.”

* * *

Three weeks passed, and Peter had not heard from the Blacks about Sirius coming to stay. He had written several letters to Sirius to try and help him through his time at home, but he had received only a few replies. From the briefness and messiness of Sirius’ letters, Peter was sure he had written them without his mother’s consent.

Of what Peter could get out of his letters, it sounded like Sirius was humoring his mother just enough to let him leave. Sirius had written, rather proudly, that he had refrained from hexing his brother when he made a cruel comment about Dumbledore.

“Get me out of here,” he had written in the letter Peter had received the day before.

In the last week of July, Sirius’ head finally appeared in the Pettigrews’ small fireplace. “Is tomorrow all right?” he asked Peter, looking at him hopefully.

“Yeah! I’ll set up a bed in my room.”

Sirius grinned and disappeared again. “Mum!” Peter yelled. She came out of the kitchen quickly, looking around as if she expected that something had blown up. “What is it, dear?” she asked, confused, after she had ascertained that everything was in order.

“Sirius is coming over tomorrow. I don’t know if his mother is coming or not, but I need you to do a few things in case she does.”

“Like what?” Confusion was written all over his mother’s thin face. Suddenly, Peter realized he had not told her anything about Sirius’ family; he had not even mentioned his last name.

“Sirius’ last name is Black.” He was ready for the shock and anger on her face, and he quickly pressed on—”But he’s nothing like the rest of them. He’s in Gryffindor, you know. That’s why he’s coming over—to get away from his family!”

“But…a  _ Black, _ Peter!” his mother seemed to be struggling to speak. “They’re in with my family, and you know how they are! Even if this Sirius is different, there’s only so far he can run from them!”

“He’s not like them,” Peter insisted. “I shared a dorm with him and Remus and James, and he never got violent or even too angry at all!” This, of course, was not entirely true; Sirius had been extraordinarily angry six or seven times over the year, but he had never threatened anyone but his family, the teachers, and Snivellus Snape. “Look, he wants to get away from his mother. That’s why I invited him over!”

“And what if I say no?” she said, very angry. “Why can’t he visit your other friends instead?”

“James is out of the country, plus, he’s a Potter, and the Blacks hate them.”

“That’s a  _ Potter _ ?” his mother said, astounded. “Why’s he talking to someone so lowly as you?”

Peter glared at her. “James is one of the nicest and unprejudiced people I know.”

“And your other friend?” she said, apparently unable to think of a reply.

“Remus’ mum is a Muggle. I think Mrs Black would kill Sirius if she knew. Plus, Remus and his mum are always so sick…”

“You visited over Christmas!” she argued.

“It only hurts them once a month. We visited in between the attacks.” He did not mention that Mrs Lupin seemed quite healthy for someone who was sick all the time.

His mother sighed. “Fine. The Black boy is coming tomorrow. Now, what do you say I need to do?”

“Get Grace out of the house for a few hours,” he said, and hurried on at her indignant look. “You know how she likes to talk, and I think it’d just be safer if she was out somewhere. Send her over to her friend’s house or something. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Apparently finding no problem with that, his mother nodded. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. Make yourself look a little nicer, like you’re still a Greengrass. And be sure to act like one.”

“You want me to be  _ rude _ to this woman?”

“No—just be a little snobby-looking. If you’re rude she’ll be mad, and we don’t want that.”

* * *

The next day around noon, Grace was safely across the street at her friend’s house, their flat was tidied up, and Peter and his mother sat waiting in the living room. The tension could have been cut with a knife; neither of them spoke.

Sirius had Flooed that morning, saying they would arrive at about 12:30. Just in case, the Pettigrews had been ready for their arrival since much earlier. As Peter looked around the small room, he was struck with a horrible thought.  _ It’s so small! _ The flat consisted of three small bedrooms—Peter suspected his had once been a sort of walk-in closet—a kitchen, a bathroom, and a small sitting room. The walls, bland and slightly peeling in places, were in no way impressive. Once he thought about it, Peter believed that his entire home would probably fit in Sirius’ bedroom.  _ Well, hopefully Mrs Black won’t look too closely. _

The fire flared green, and both of them jumped slightly as Sirius appeared with his trunk. “Mother’s coming,” he said quickly, stepping out of the way of the fire as the older woman appeared. 

“Susan Greengrass,” she said, not even bothering to introduce herself.

“Mrs Walburga Black…it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Peter’s mother said, going into a slight bow. It looked quite rehearsed, as if it had been ingrained in her since childhood. Peter realized a bit belatedly that it probably had been.

“I expected a much larger house for someone of such noble birth,” Sirius’ mother said, looking around the small room disapprovingly.

Peter groaned inwardly, and Sirius’ face flushed pink. “Of course,” Peter’s mother said, sighing and looking around forlornly. “This is only a temporary stay. I’ve pulled all the strings I could, but we cannot move into my grandfather’s old estate for a few more months. He just passed recently, you know, and the Ministry likes to take its time with such things.”

Mrs Black scowled. “Horrible people, all of them…Mudbloods or Muggle-lovers, of course. I don’t know how Orion can stand working with them all day.”

“He must have an extraordinary amount of patience,” Peter’s mother agreed.

“Well, I understand you will be looking after Sirius for the rest of the summer?” the dark-haired woman said abruptly, turning toward her son.

“Of course, ma’am,” the brown-haired, shorter woman bent into an unnoticed bow. Peter saw the back of the woman’s head nod twice—once to his mother’s statement and once to Sirius—before she Disapparated away.

The remaining occupants relaxed immediately. “I’m sorry about her,” Sirius said, walking to the others. “I’m Sirius. Thank you for taking me in, Mrs Pettigrew.” He smiled charmingly at her and stuck out his hand.

She shook it, a little hesitant. “I suppose you can’t be worse than your mother, can you?”

“Mum!” Peter said, indignant, as Sirius laughed loudly.

“I guess not!”

Peter led Sirius down the hall to their shared room as Mrs Pettigrew retreated back down to the shop. “So you live on Diagon Alley?” Sirius asked interestedly, peering out the window at the busy street.

“Yeah. It’s a good thing most of the time, especially with Mum right downstairs. Grace tends to get in a lot of trouble.”

* * *

Sirius got along relatively well with Peter’s sister and mother, but he thought he could understand Peter’s irritation with them; Grace was just so  _ loud. _ The boys’ Hogwarts letters arrived in the first week of August. Peter seemed eager to get out of his mother’s grasp, so they decided to Floo James and Remus to see if they could come school supply shopping.

“Is anyone here?”

Sirius looked out into the Potters’ familiar sitting room. Nobody was there, and he heard no footsteps; he was just about to pull his head back to the Pettigrews’ when a short figure came into the room, looking curious. Its face lit up when it spotted Sirius; he quickly recognized the figure as Biddy, one of the Potters’ house elves.

“Master Sirius!” she shrieked, running toward the fireplace happily. “What is you needing?”

“I was just wondering if James and his parents were back from Germany yet,” Sirius answered kindly. He had never had any great love of house elves because his own, Kreacher, was so horrible, but Biddy, Slinky, and Zippy were very agreeable.

“I is sorry, Master Sirius,” Biddy said, shaking her head. “They is not coming back for two weeks.”

“Oh.” Sirius was a bit disappointed, but he supposed Biddy could do nothing about her masters’ travel plans. “Thanks anyway.”

“No luck?” Peter asked when he pulled his head out again. Sirius shook his head.

“Not for another two weeks.”

“Well, we can try Remus,” Peter said, reaching for the Floo. “I’ll talk to him.”

* * *

Peter faced the Lupins’ kitchen when his head finally stopped spinning. At first he thought there was nobody there, but then he spotted a young girl in the corner, rummaging through a cupboard. She pulled her head out and turned around, holding bandages. Peter realized much too late that she was wearing Muggle clothing. Her eyes locked with Peter’s for a moment before she let out a blood-curdling scream.

Peter heard footstep stampeding down the stairs, and Alex Lupin ran into the room, very white. “What is it, Carlie?” she asked, looking around the room and apparently not noticing Peter at all. Peter, however, noticed Remus’ mother. Specifically, he noticed how  _ healthy _ she seemed to be. Before he could follow that thought, the girl—Carlie—pointed at him, and Mrs Lupin seemed to notice him at last. Her eyes widened the slightest bit before she composed herself to soothe the sobbing girl.

“Take these up to Remus’ room,” she said, keeping her body between Carlie and Peter’s floating head. The girl scurried off quickly, and Mrs Lupin turned slowly toward Peter. He thought he might want to apologize for scaring Remus’ obviously Muggle cousin, but his friend’s mother spoke first.

“Do you need something? I’m sorry about Carlie—she’s my sister’s daughter, you know, and they don’t know about your world. Ian will have to do something about it, I expect.”

“I was just wondering if Remus could come shopping for supplies with us today or tomorrow,” Peter asked, keeping his voice calm. He had just noticed something suspiciously scarlet on her hands and clothes.

“He’s not feeling too well right now,” Mrs Lupin looked apologetic. “He caught something the other day, and Ian says it’ll take him three or four days to recover.”

“Oh. Well, thanks anyway,” Peter said, still forcing himself to stay calm.  _ What’s wrong with him? _ he wondered, hoping the bloody clothes had nothing to do with it.  _ I hope he’s okay _ . “Tell him we hope he feels better.”

She nodded and headed toward the door. Peter returned to his own house.

“Can he come?”

Peter shook his head. “His mum said he felt too sick.”

“His  _ mum _ ?” Sirius looked skeptical. “We just got a letter from Remus yesterday that said she was really sick again!”

“But…why would he lie about his mum?” Peter could not understand. If she was healthy, why did Remus insist she was ill?

“What if she hasn’t been sick at  _ all _ this whole year? What if  _ Remus _ is the one who’s sick?” Peter thought Sirius was getting carried away, but the dark-haired boy continued before Peter could but in. “Why else would he lie? There has to be a reason! Remus wouldn’t do that to us!

“To make himself seem more interesting?” Peter suggested feebly, but even as he said it he knew it made no sense.

“That’s not like him at all! He hates being the center of attention. There has to be a reason why he lied to us all year!”

* * *

Sirius Black hated mysteries.

Well, that may not be completely true. Amended, he hated mysteries that he could not solve. And the mystery that was Remus Lupin seemed impossible to crack.

He and Peter had bounced ideas back and forth, but they had come up with nothing reasonable once they had decided that Remus was the one who was ill. “Oh! There was something really odd going on,” Peter said suddenly after a lull in their brainstorming. “Remus’ cousin was getting bandages when she saw me, and Mrs Lupin had  _ blood _ on her shirt.”

“ _ What _ ?” How could he have forgotten that important detail? “You’re sure it was blood? Maybe she missed with the ketchup bottle or something.”

“She told Carlie—that’s his cousin—to bring the bandages to  _ Remus’ room _ ,” Peter countered, looking determined now that he had thought of something.

“But why would Remus be bleeding? I thought he was sick!”  _ This doesn’t make sense at all! _

“Maybe he’s so sick he’s coughing blood? Or he has Dragon Pox and he scratched until he bled?” Peter suggested.

“Well, how much blood was on her?”

Peter did not answer immediately. “There was a  _ lot _ …on her hands and shirt and pants…”

“That’s it!” Sirius stood up angrily and strode to the fireplace again. “I’m going to Floo  _ right now _ and find out what the hell is wrong with him!”

“Don’t!” Peter sounded upset, and Sirius stopped short. “We know Remus is the one who’s sick, right? There’s a bookstore across the street—let’s look at some books about diseases and see if we can find anything there.”

“But—” Sirius was annoyed. Why look something up in a dusty old book when you can ask someone and get a direct answer?

“You know they won’t tell us what’s wrong with him. They’ve been lying about this all year.”

Sirius had to admit that he had a point. Greta, especially, seemed hell-bent on protecting Remus—from what, he had no idea. “All right, we’ll look at the stupid books. But if we don’t find anything, I’m going to the Lupins’ and won’t leave until they tell me.”

* * *

The two boys walked into Flourish and Blotts five minutes later. Peter knew the store back-to-front—apparently he retreated there often to escape his sister—so he quickly led the way to the correct section.

Sirius searched the shelves disinterestedly, pulled a few at random and sat down to skim through them. Peter returned a minute later with a large tome entitled  How to Know if Your Friend is Dying .

“That’s a little extreme!” Sirius said, alarmed. “He’s not dying, you know!”

“For all we know, he might be,” Peter set down the book patiently. “But it has an index of symptoms. I bet that’ll be useful.”

Sirius made a noncommittal grunt and returned to turning the pages of his own book. “Do you want to find out what’s wrong with him or not?” Peter asked suddenly, sounding a bit upset. Sirius looked up in surprise.

“Of course I do—I just think there’s better ways of doing it.”

Peter sighed. “Well, you’ll just have to stick with this for now. Maybe if we narrow it down to a few diseases they’ll be more likely to tell us.”

Sirius had to admit that the blonde boy had a point. It could not hurt to know what the boy was sick with, could it? They could at least take off some of Remus’ stress, he decided. He wouldn’t have to lie any more.

“Well, I think with your book we should look through the index and write down any symptoms we recognize,” Sirius said, pushing his own books away. Peter’s face brightened considerably once he had his friend’s support.

“Here, you read out the symptoms, and if Remus has them I’ll write them down.” The shorter boy pushed the book across the table.

Sirius let out a long-suffering sigh. “Why do I have to do all the work?”

Nevertheless, he opened the massive book to the last 100 pages or so and began skimming the symptoms. “The problem is, we never see him when he’s  _ really _ sick,” he mused aloud. “He always leaves for a few days. I bet that’s when he’s—oh!” Sirius interrupted himself, looking up from the book. “Doesn’t he look ‘fatigued?’”

“Well, yeah,” Peter said slowly. “But don’t most sicknesses make you tired?”

“But he falls asleep in practically all our classes right before he leaves! I think that’s what the book means.” Peter nodded after a moment and wrote it down. “Now, what else…”


	24. Chapter 24

A few days later, Remus was feeling perfectly better. His relatives had arrived for an impromptu visit the morning after the full moon; they had been horrified to find their beloved Remus bloody and unconscious. His parents and sister had to do some very fast talking, explaining that a bear had attacked him when he went into the backyard early that morning. This story had satisfied their curiosity but had not lessened their terror.

“You really should fence off your yard,” his Uncle Stephen said over breakfast once Remus had recovered. “Bears are dangerous things. Too bad you had to learn that the hard way.” He bent over to gently ruffle his nephew’s hair. “Lucky your dad’s a doctor, huh?”

Remus nodded.  _ Lucky you didn’t come a day earlier. _ “Did I miss anything?” he asked the table in general.

“Your friend Peter called,” his mother answered. “I told him you were too sick to speak with him.”

Remus felt the blood drain from his face. “Called” obviously meant “Flooed,” and if Peter had seen his mother healthy… _ Damn, I just sent them a letter saying she’s ill! _

“What did he need?”

“He wanted to go school supply shopping. It was too bad you couldn’t go, really.”

“Well, we’ll just have to go sometime before term starts again,” Greta said briskly. Remus got the impression she was trying to change the subject for the benefit of their extended family. “Anyway, Jenna, Carlie, what have you been up to lately?”

* * *

A week or so later, Remus’ cousins departed for their own home. The young werewolf was almost relieved; though he loved his mother’s family dearly, they had always been very tiring. In his room, he slumped on his bed, reading the latest letter from James. It detailed their trip home from Germany aboard an airplane—James called it a motorbroom—with a few details Remus was sure his friend made up.

_ …We were flying along just fine—not as fun as actual brooms, of course—when suddenly this huge dragon appeared right next to the motorbroom! The Muggles freaked out, but my dad stood up all calm, told everyone not to panic, opened the door to the motorbroom and started hitting the thing with spells until it flew away! Dad was hero of the plane for about a minute before he had to erase everyone’s memories… _

Remus chuckled at his friend’s ridiculous narrative. As far as he knew, there were no dragons living above the English Channel. He pulled out some parchment and a quill to reply when a soft knock came at his door.

“Remus, can I come in?”

“Sure, Mum,” Remus said immediately, and Alex Lupin walked in the room a little nervously. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s your friends. Oh, no, it’s not that I don’t like them!” she added hurriedly as Remus opened his mouth to object. “It’s just, I think they’re worried about you.”

“What do you mean?” If the three boys had found out that it was Remus himself who was ill, it was only a matter of time before they found out what his ailment _ was _ .

“Well, when I talked to Peter, he seemed really concerned when I said you were sick.”

“Probably because I sent him a letter the day before saying  _ you _ were sick again! He was probably confused why you looked so well!”

“That may be, but that’s not the point,” his mother said, sitting next to him on his bed. “What I wanted to talk about was the idea of just  _ telling _ them where you go every month.”

“Are you crazy?” Remus almost yelled. “Mum, I don’t think you realize. James  _ hates _ werewolves. And he’s scared of them, too, they’re his Boggart! Think what he would do if he found out what I am!”

“But he’s your friend,” his mother pressed. “I’m sure he’ll look past this and stay with you.”

“He was attacked by one too!” Remus said, trying and failing to stay calm. “Only he wasn’t stupid enough to stay on the ground! He climbed a tree and only got scratched! If I had thought for one second—” he choked on the last part of his sentence.

“I know, dear. That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

Remus had no idea how she could have known that.  _ He told me about it at school, and I didn’t tell anyone! _ As he was trying to figure out whether or not his mother was just trying to appease him and where exactly she was going with this, she pulled out a slightly yellowed newspaper clipping.

_ What the— _

“This is an editorial your father sent to the Daily Prophet six years ago,” she said quietly. “If you look at the date…”

“September 15, 1966,” he said dully, glancing at it. “A month before.” His mother nodded silently and motioned for him to read the article.

_ Worrisome Werewolves—Is Reform Necessary? _

_ James Potter is an average six-year-old wizard. He loves Quidditch, Gobstones, and collecting Chocolate Frog Cards. All children should be so carefree.   
But this past week, James’ life came within an inch of ending. _

_ I mean this quite literally. James stayed outside late on the night of September ninth, ignoring his parents’ calls for him to come inside. He wanted to fly a little more on his toy broomstick, he said. He’d be inside in a minute. _

_ Being an adventurous boy, James decided to fly into the small grove of trees behind his house. The sun was setting quickly, however, so he did not go far before he turned around to fly safely home. _

_ Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him. He turned around to see, to his horror, a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring back at him. On closer inspection, the eyes were set into an enormous head, attached to a grey-furred body at least five times the size of his own. Under the light of the bright, round moon, the creature looked remarkably like an oversized wolf. _

_ James did what any sensible person would do—he ran for his life. _

_ Of course, a six year old on a toy broomstick would not get very far before the hungry werewolf caught him. But James showed remarkable courage when he suddenly jumped off his broom—the monster feet away—and climbed a tree as fast as he could. Unfortunately, he was not quick enough. James felt horrible, near-blinding pain in his left leg before he could get to safety. _

_ Charles and Emily Potter come running when they heard their son’s screams. Fighting off the creature with difficulty, they were horrified to find their bleeding, sobbing son a few feet above their heads. _

_ They rushed him to St Mungo’s, where I myself was on duty in the intensive care. Several other Healers and I worked for nearly an hour, staunching the blood, running tests, praying this little boy might have gotten lucky. Finally, the results came in: _

_ It wasn’t a bite. _

_ James was only clawed by the werewolf, which means he will make a full recovery in a week or two and go on to live a normal life. His parents won’t have to prepare the backyard shed to cage their only son once a month; they won’t have to remove silver from all over the house; they’ll be able to wave goodbye in five years as he boards the Hogwarts Express. If only all werewolf stories had such a happy ending. _

_ The cold, hard truth is that every month, both wizards and Muggles are attacked by these monsters. Many do not survive the encounter; of those who do, only a handful a  year come out of it without being cursed. _

_ Something has to be done about these creatures. Fenrir Greyback—the one suspected of attacking James—is one of the worst out there. The Potters can breathe easily again, but this encounter leaves the country wondering: who will be next? _

_ Greyback is known for attacking small children, but nobody is safe from his wrath. He needs to be stopped before more innocents lose their lives. Some call for life imprisonment in Azkaban, but I say, why waste the space? I have a small son at home, the same age as James, and I cannot imagine what it would be like if he were attacked. _

_ I believe heartless, insane creatures such as Greyback should be silenced permanently. They contribute nothing to our society except for the threat of death or a ruined life. Nobody—perhaps not even the feral werewolves themselves—deserves that fate. _

The article was accompanied by a picture of a six-year-old James, grinning and waving enthusiastically at the camera. Remus stared at the article for a moment longer before looking up at his mother. “What does this have to do with me and James’ friendship?”

“Greyback was the werewolf that bit you as well,” she answered quietly, looking extremely pained. “It was no coincidence that you were attacked the next full moon after this was published.”

“But that means—”

“Greyback attacked you because your father wrote this article.”

Remus could think of nothing to say.  _ It’s Dad’s fault I’m a monster? _ He was angry initially, but pushed that thought aside quickly.  _ It’s just as much my fault. If I hadn’t gone out— _

“Do you blame us?” his mother’s voice cut through his thoughts; she sounded anxious, scared. “For not telling you, for not protecting you—”

“Of course not. There’s no way you could have stopped him,” he assured her quickly, giving her a hug.  _ But if Dad hadn’t written the article— _

He forced himself to stop thinking like that when he saw his mother nearly collapse in relief. “I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I wanted to, years ago, but Ian said you wouldn’t take it well. He still blames himself, you know. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive himself for what you have to go through.”

Remus pulled her into another hug. “You don’t need to worry. I don’t blame anyone but Greyback. Tell Dad that.”

She smiled weakly and stood up. “Oh, you may want to Floo Peter and Sirius and see if they’re still up for some shopping. School starts in a week and a half and you don’t have any supplies!”

Remus was startled; he had forgotten. “I’ll be right down.” As soon as his door shut behind his mother, Remus collapsed on his bed, thoughts flying through his mind.

_ Because James was article-worthy, Dad attracted Greyback’s attention. If only Greyback had actually bitten James— _

Remus stopped himself, horrified at his own thoughts. Though he wanted more than anything to be normal, he would never wish his fate on anyone, especially one of his best friends. 

“I’m a horrible person,” he announced to the empty room. “I keep secrets from all of them and I wish they would trade lives with me…”  _ I don’t deserve them. _

_ I need to stop thinking like that! _ He shook his head, trying to clear it.  _ I’ll stay friends with them until they find out. Then they’ll leave me, and I’ll just finish school without friends. It can’t be too hard, can it? _

_ But what if they tell everyone what I am? _

Then he would just have to come home and be homeschooled.  _ Like it was supposed to be. _

“What am I talking about?” Remus asked himself. Greta would yell at him for thinking such things. Maybe they wouldn’t leave him after all. Maybe they would still want to be his friends…

_ Better not get my hopes up. _

He quickly realized that he needed to go downstairs—for his own mental health.  _ Who knows what I’ll decide if I stay alone for too long. _ He soon arrived in the kitchen and greeted his mother and sister. He then walked to the fireplace to Floo his friends.

When his head stopped spinning, he looked out into a small, empty living room.  _ It might even be smaller than mine, _ he mused. The old carpet looked scraggly, and the chair, couch, and coffee table were cramped in the small space. “Hello?” he said loudly, hoping someone was home. He heard sock-covered feet scuffling in the next room, and a brown-haired girl came into view. She squealed loudly and disappeared again when she saw Remus.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” he said quickly, recognizing her as Peter’s younger sister. “I’m Remus, one of Peter’s friends. Is he there?”

“No,” Grace said, still out of sight. “Him and Sirius went to the bookstore again.”

“The bookstore?” he asked incredulously.  _ Why would Sirius ever agree to go there? _

“Yeah, they go there a lot,” the girl confirmed. “I don’t know when they’ll come back.”

“Okay,” Remus said, still rather surprised. “Thanks, Grace.”

“What did they say?” Greta asked once he arrived back at his house. He shook his head.

“They weren’t there. Grace said they were at the bookstore.”

“What?” his sister asked incredulously. “Sirius, at a bookstore?”

“That’s what I said. Apparently they go there a lot.” Remus tried to think of what could prompt his generally book-phobic friends to go to Flourish and Blotts. He could think of nothing.

“Could we go shopping now?” he asked his mother. “Maybe we could just meet up with them there and say hi. I haven’t seen them all summer…”

“Sure! Let me just leave your dad a note, and then we’ll go. I suppose I’ll have to get the bank key, won’t I?” She hurried off, and Greta turned to Remus.

“Why don’t you Floo James and see if he can come too?”

Remus jumped at the mention of his friend, and Greta’s face softened. “Mum told you, didn’t she?” He nodded silently. “You know it wasn’t his fault, or your fault, or Dad’s fault. Only Greyback’s. Don’t beat yourself up over it. And you know you can’t act differently around James—he’d want to know why.”

He nodded again and stuck his head in the green fire. When James’ living room came into view, he was able to better contain his awe, and spoke politely to one of the house elves. Slinky said that “Master James” was indeed home, and he hurried off to find him.

“Remus!” James ran into the room excitedly. “How are you?”

“Great! And it sounds like your trip was fun.”

“It was awesome! Even though I didn’t know what anyone was saying. Mum wants me to learn German, but why should I? It’d take so much work!”

Remus laughed along with his friend. “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to come to Diagon Alley with me. I still need school supplies.”

“You haven’t gotten them yet? You, of all people?” James laughed. “I thought you’d get them as soon as you got the letter!”

“My mum’s family showed up for a visit. We couldn’t exactly come home with Charms books and frog legs.”

“I guess that’s true. Well, I can ask Mum and Dad real quick.” He ran out of the room, and Remus heard the three of them talking briefly before James reappeared, looking excited.

“Are you going now? Mum says that’s the best time…”

“Yeah. Meet you in the Leaky Cauldron, then?”

* * *

As soon as Remus’ head disappeared from the fireplace, James sprinted up to his room to put on his shoes. “Let’s go!” he yelled to his parents, who had been sitting in the kitchen talking quietly. “Remus is waiting!”

“Before we go, James,” his mother said seriously, “can we talk for a second?”

He sighed heavily and flopped into a chair. “I haven’t done anything, I swear. I can’t be in trouble!”

His father chuckled. “No, it’s nothing like that. We’d just like you to stay with either us or Mr Lupin the entire time you’re in Diagon Alley.”

“Why?” James felt like a toddler for asking, but he could think of no reason why he had to stay with an adult.  _ Peter goes out alone all the time! _

“There’s been some really funny stuff going on lately. People have disappeared…a few have even died,” his father answered. “Just humor us, all right?”

“But—”

“Or do you want to repeat what happened last time you went out alone into an unfamiliar place?” his mother asked. It was a low blow, and she knew it. Though James definitely did not want to relive that, he doubted very much that he would find a transformed werewolf in broad daylight in Diagon Alley.

“Fine,” he said at last. “You guys are overreacting to these things, though. I’m sure the Ministry’ll catch the guy soon.”

* * *

The two families met in the Leaky Cauldron a few minutes later, and James and Remus quickly dragged the others to Flourish and Blotts to find their friends.

“Don’t forget about buying your schoolbooks!” Remus mother said, laughing.

James grinned at her. “Of course we won’t!”

Upon entering the bookstore, James looked around for Sirius and Peter. “Do you see them?” he asked Remus doubtfully.

The other boy shook his head. “I can hear them, I think. They’re somewhere over there.” He pointed to a back corner of the store.

Astounded, as he had been many times in the past, by Remus’ amazing sense of hearing, the two of them headed toward their friends’ voices.

“I think that’s all of them,” Sirius’ voice said.  _ All of what? _ “Next time, let’s see what they all match, and then—”

James watched as Peter’s leg kicked Sirius and his hands cleared off the table. “Remus! James!” Peter said loudly. “We haven’t seen you in forever!”

Sirius spun around, an enormous grin plastered on his face. “Glad to see you’re better, Remus! You scared us when your mum said you were sick!”

“Yeah, well, I’m better now,” Remus confirmed. “What are you guys doing in a  _ bookstore _ , though?”

“We just needed to get out of the house. Grace was driving us mad,” Peter said. James knew immediately that he was lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. Though the boy’s tales convinced almost everyone else, James had watched him lie too many times.  _ I’ll have to ask them later. _

Remus seemed to be trying to catch a glimpse of the title of the large tome Peter was holding; however, he was clutching it with the front toward his body. “We’ll join you in a minute,” Peter said, turning toward one of the bookshelves nearby. “We just need to put these away…Mr Blott doesn’t like messes in his store.”

Remus nodded slowly; James thought he looked rather skeptical. “We’ll see you at the front, then.”

As they were walking back, Remus suddenly slipped behind a bookshelf, watching the other two intently.

“Remus, what’re you—”

“I want to see what they were looking up,” he replied in an undertone. “You go on—say I went to the bathroom.”

James found his behavior odd. He knew Peter and Sirius had been spying on Remus. Now Remus was spying on them?  _ Why can’t anyone be honest with each other? _

* * *

Remus watched Peter and Sirius carefully, noting exactly where they put the book back. When the two were safely at the front of the store again, Remus walked to the shelf they had left moments before. Countless brightly colored volumes stared down at him, but he was only interested in one.

_ How to Know if Your Friend is Dying? _

Remus pulled the book down with shaking hands.  _ So they know I’m sick. _ He tried very hard to keep his panic under control and began flipping through the pages of the book. There were no indications that his friends had visited the pages of lycanthropy; however, they left no signs anywhere else, either.

He arrived at the end of the book.  _ Symptoms. Great. _ That was why he had not noticed anything in the rest of the book—they had only looked through the index, likely writing down anything they recognized.

He shut the book decisively. There was nothing he could do about their impending discovery, so he would just have to treasure every minute he had left.


	25. Chapter 25

Two weeks later, James walked nervously onto Platform 9 ¾. He was not nervous at the prospect of going back to school, of course.  _ I’m not an ickle firstie any more! _ He cheered to himself for a moment; Peeves took great pleasure in torturing the youngest of the castle, but he was no longer among their ranks.

No, James was not scared of school itself. He was, rather, a bit apprehensive about meeting up with his friends again.  _ You shouldn’t be scared of your own mates! _ he told himself sternly. But the feeling of dread lingered as he said goodbye to his parents and boarded the train. It was still rather early, so the other three second years had not arrived yet. He chose a compartment near the back of the train and settled down to plan his attack.

_ Remus thinks they’re doing something bad, _ he thought, remembering Remus’ ashen face as he came back from the ‘bathroom.’  _ Or—Merlin—they still think he’s sick, don’t they? Why won’t they just give it up? Why does it matter if he’s got some disease? If he hasn’t told us then he doesn’t want us to know! _

James resolved to talk sense into the first person to arrive. Hopefully he could either convince Remus that whatever he had was not all that bad, or tell the others to stop prying.

Remus ended up arriving first, looking very ill. “Hey,” he said, his voice a little strained. “Do you mind if I sleep?”

Of course, James minded very much, but he knew his friend would doze off anyway. “Sure. Want us to wake you up for the food trolley?”

“Just buy me however much chocolate is worth…ten sickles,” he said, counting out some coins. “I’ll wake up on my own.”

James took the money as Remus settled into a corner and shut his eyes. That seemed like a lot of chocolate… _ But he loves that stuff, _ he reminded himself.  _ Says it’s the cure for everything. _

He was just beginning to wonder if the others would show up when they burst into the compartment a minute before eleven, laughing loudly. “Guys!” James said over their conversation, pointing to Remus, who was fast asleep. The two shared an uneasy glance at the sight of their friend, their mirth evaporating almost instantly. 

_ What now?  _ “What were you really doing in Flourish and Blott’s?” James asked in a quieter tone.

Peter glanced at Remus again _ — _ probably making sure he was truly asleep—and said, “Looking up what could be wrong with him.”

“Did you find anything?”

“A few things,” Sirius said vaguely. “Let’s not talk about this, though, okay? Too depressing and all that. Cards?”

* * *

Remus sat very still in his seat. He had woken up suddenly to a loud explosion; when he heard no screaming, he assumed his friends were playing some sort of game. He was about to sit up when James’ voice startled him into silence.

“I just want to let you know I don’t think you should pry into Remus’ problems,” James was saying sternly. “Even if he is sick, it’s his own business, isn’t it? It’s not like we can do anything to help.”

Sirius sounded agitated, but then, he always did when someone disagreed with him. “I thought you wanted to drop this? Why do you keep bringing it up? And we’ve already told you—if we know what’s wrong with him, he won’t have to lie anymore!”

_ Because I’ll never get to talk to you again, _ Remus thought cynically.  _ They’re so close to figuring it out…why don’t I just distance myself now? _

_ Because they mean too much to me, _ he answered himself.  _ I might as well stay as long as they don’t hate me. _

“We have a few ideas of what it could be,” Peter was saying. “We’ll narrow it down after a while, but we’ll have to watch him to—”

“Now you’re treating him like some sort of experiment!” James nearly yelled, obviously outraged. “He’s just a kid, like you and me! Why does it matter so much that you know what he has?”

“I’m more interested in finding out  _ why _ he’s lying about it,” Sirius said. “He’d better have a damn good reason. I mean, even if he grows tentacles or something every month, there’s nothing for him to worry about! I don’t understand why—”

Remus decided he needed to “wake up” before the conversation became any more dangerously close to the truth. He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, feigning sleepiness. Sirius stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at his friend.

“We got your chocolate,” he said cheerfully, indicating the enormous pile next to the brown-haired boy. “Are you sure you can eat all that, though? If I ate that much I’d be sick!”

Remus shrugged and turned to his pile, selecting a chocolate frog and tearing into it. He glanced at the card: Ptolemy. “You still need him, don’t you?” he asked Peter, giving the card to him. His face lit up.

“Yeah—thanks so much!”

* * *

Peter sighed.  _ Almost time. _

It was their second day back at Hogwarts, and he and Sirius were putting one of several plans into action. They had narrowed down the possibilities to about a dozen different diseases through their research, and Sirius was determined to discover—and cure, if possible—Remus’ problem.

They had decided to test some more symptoms, starting with the least likely disease. This was, of course, lycanthropy. Peter had laughed at the idea of Remus being a werewolf, but Sirius insisted that they could not rule it out.

James was out practicing Quidditch that Wednesday evening; tryouts were in October, and he was driving himself mad preparing. This left Peter, Sirius, and Remus sitting in a corner of the common room immediately after classes had ended. Remus looked very ill—more than he had even an hour or two ago—and his eyes were very bright.  _ They’re almost yellow _ , Peter mused. Peter and the others had never seen their friend so late in the day that he left, and now he understood why.  _ He looks like he’s going to die! _

Just as he was about to suggest that Remus go see Madame Pomfrey, Remus stood up rather shakily and announced he was not feeling well.

“You want us to come with you?” Sirius asked, looking rather concerned.

Remus shook his head. “I’ll be okay.”

“Well, feel better then! And your mum!”

Remus nodded before turning around toward the portrait hole. Greta, halfway across the room, sprung up and ran to help him.

A few seconds later, Sirius stood up. “Let’s go to our room, then,” he said, winking at Peter. The blonde knew exactly what that meant; they would borrow James’ Invisibility Cloak and follow the Lupins to see if they actually did go home.

Soon after, they were following them at a safe distance, knowing that Remus could hear exceptionally well. When they were almost at the Hospital Wing, Remus suddenly stopped and turned around, his brow furrowed.

“What is it?” Greta asked, glancing out the window worriedly. “We have to hurry, or—”

“There’s someone there,” Remus said decisively, looking back at them with his spooky yellow eyes. “I can almost see them—they’re right—there—” He pointed right at the two of them momentarily before doubling over, holding his stomach.

Peter and Sirius shared a terrified glance.  _ How could he see us? _ Peter thought wildly.  _ We’re under the Cloak! _

Sirius looked just as scared as he felt, but he seemed to be more concerned for their friend. Greta was nearly carrying her brother now, yelling out for the nurse in between her stern comments to Remus.

“Worse than normal…shouldn’t have gone to class…pay tomorrow…”

Peter had no idea what any of these phrases meant, but he thought it was an excellent idea to run back to the common room. Sirius, however, pressed on, following Greta until Madame Pomfrey emerged from her domain, very pale.

“He should have come this morning!” she said. Peter couldn’t tell if she was angry or upset. “He’ll be terrible tomorrow!”

“He wouldn’t come—said he couldn’t miss so much this early in the year,” Greta said, glancing down at his now-still form.

_ He’s still breathing, right?! _

“He’ll probably miss another day anyway,” the nurse said, shaking her head. “It’s worse if he tires himself out…we’d better get going, though,” she also looked out the window for some reason. “Get him settled down.”

“I’ll be here first thing tomorrow,” Greta said, handing her brother’s unconscious form to the nurse. With tears in her eyes, she ran down the hall quickly and out of sight.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head, looking down at Remus. “I don’t know how you do this,” she said, beginning to walk back to her Infirmary again. Instead of turning toward the door, though, she went to the opposite wall and walked straight through it.  _ Remus told us about that, _ Peter thought vaguely before Sirius nudged him. They shared a confused look before silently agreeing to follow her.

There were not any stairs behind the wall; the boys simply found themselves standing in the Entrance Hall. The nurse’s white robe was just disappearing around the door to the outside, and they hurried to catch up. When they stepped outside, however, they could not see her at all in the fading light. 

“Let’s just go back,” Peter said quietly, tugging at Sirius’ sleeve.

“We’re so close!” he argued, pulling his arm away. “If we could just see where they went—”

“I think we have enough to take a stab at what’s wrong with him,” Peter argued. “It’s full moon tonight, remember? And he’s horribly sick and leaves before dark. That means he’s probably—”

“There’s no way  _ Remus _ is a  _ werewolf _ !” Sirius shook his head. “There’s got to be something else. I’m sure there are more diseases related to the moon.”

“Where he’ll have yellow eyes and be burned by silver?” Peter was rather skeptical as well, but they had no choice but to believe it. He continued to argue as they began walking back to the Gryffindor common room, taking off the Cloak. “There’s nothing else that matches the symptoms so well. I don’t know what else it would be.”

Sirius grunted. “It doesn’t make sense! Everything James told us about them—he’s not like that! Hell, he’s probably the most civilized of all of us!”

Peter could think of nothing to say, so he just shrugged.

“Oh Merlin, James’ll blow when he hears it,” Sirius continued, sighing heavily. “He’ll be even angrier than I am…”

“You’re angry?” Peter asked in surprise. He had not really thought about his opinion on the matter. He had been so wrapped up in finding out what was wrong…

“Of course I’m angry! He’s kept a huge secret from us and lied to us!” Sirius raged, turning to the shorter boy incredulously. “Aren’t you?”

“I…think I’m more scared than anything,” Peter decided finally. “I mean, he’s a monster, right? So—”

“How could you  _ say _ that?” Sirius looked even angrier now, glaring at his friend. “You were fine with him an hour ago. He hasn’t changed.”

“But he’s a  _ werewolf _ ,” Peter repeated.  _ Doesn’t he get it? _ “Werewolves are violent and—”

“This is why he didn’t tell us,” Sirius interrupted him. “He was worried we all would have that reaction. He’s been like this ever since we’ve known him, probably before, too. Just because we know how doesn’t change anything!”

“Last year, you said you thought they were worthless scum,” Peter countered. “Why have you changed all of a sudden?”

“Well, Remus obviously hasn’t attacked anyone, or he wouldn’t be here.  _ Most _ werewolves are what James said. I guess Remus is one of the exceptions.”

Peter knew arguing was useless, so he kept his silence as they arrived at the Portrait Hole. “Hippogriff droppings,” Sirius snapped to the Fat Lady.

“What’s wrong with  _ you _ ?” she asked grumpily, swinging aside to allow them entrance.

“James doesn’t hear about this,” Sirius said tersely to Peter. “Neither does Remus. With your attitude, it’s best if he doesn’t know we know.”

* * *

Remus returned to the rest of the school a day later than he usually did. Greta and Madame Pomfrey had both scolded him as soon as he was conscious about how he should have gone to the Infirmary in the morning.

“But I can’t miss so many classes in the first week!” he had argued.

In the end, he arrived back at the Tower after dinner Friday, feeling a bit sore but not willing to miss another day. His friends were suspicious enough as it was.

He watched them rather fearfully for the following week or so, but they did not let on that they knew what he was. Peter did seem a little skittish around him, but James assured him that it was nothing. Apparently he was under the impression that Remus was contagious, and did not want to catch whatever he had. Remus had laughed along with his friend, but he could not stop thinking—

_ He’s not wrong. _

What was beginning to irritate him was James. Most of the time he was fine, but at night in the common room, he enjoyed regaling anyone who would listen with the tale of his near miss with Fenrir Greyback. It had started with the first years, but even the older students became interested when they heard about it.

Remus had just about reached the end of his patience when James stood in front of half the house one Monday night, telling a highly embellished version of his tale. Remus told Sirius and Peter shortly that he would see them later before he stomped up to the dormitory and slammed the door.

He was still in a terribly bad mood when his three friends joined him five minutes later. “What’s up with you?” James asked, confused.

Remus sighed and turned to him. “Everyone’s heard your story by now! Why do you have to keep retelling it?”

“It’s exciting! There’s nothing to talk about without gossip around here!”

“You sound like a girl,” Sirius sniggered.

James glared at him before turning again to Remus, obviously expecting an answer.

“I’ve heard more exciting things than that,” Remus shrugged.  _ I’ve lived them. _

“Oh yeah? Like what?” he challenged. “You don’t have  _ these _ !” James pulled up his left pant leg to reveal four thick, parallel scars.

Remus snapped.

“ _ You _ don’t have  _ these _ ,” he snarled back, yanking up his own pant leg to reveal the huge bite mark on his calf. It looked very similar to James’, but the two were different enough to turn his friend white.

“You—bloody hell—” James was speechless.

Remus let the fabric fall back to the ground. “That’s exactly what you think it is. Use your imagination, Potter. I know you have one.”

His eyes narrowed. “You  _ monster _ ! Get out of here! I never want to see you again!”

Remus looked around the room, and saw Sirius’ pained expression and Peter’s terrified face before spinning around and walking out the door.


	26. Chapter 26

“Isn’t that Remus?” Amelia asked, looking around Greta at something across the common room.

Greta turned around in her chair to see a short boy with her brother’s hair disappearing through the portrait hole. “What do you think is up?” Dorcas asked, looking concerned. “He looked really upset…”

“I’ll go after him,” Greta said, standing up. “Be back in a minute.” She crossed the room quickly.  _ Not much would upset him, _ she thought, wildly imagining possibilities.  _ Unless— _

“Do you know where he went?” she asked the Fat Lady as soon as she was outside.

“Who? The boy who just left?” she asked. “He went down that way, but I wouldn’t know where exactly.” She pointed to the right.

“Thanks,” Greta said distractedly, and she hurried in that direction.

She did not want to think it, but her mind jumped to the worst conclusion.  _ They know. _ She knew Remus’ friends were not stupid; she had just hoped they had not been able to put it together, or at least had accepted him as their friend.  _ I should have known better. _

Her wanderings brought her to the Hospital Wing.  _ Maybe he’s in here? _ Maybe he just felt a little sick and was getting something for it.  _ Maybe we’re still safe after all. _

She pushed open the door, wincing as it squeaked. Only a few lanterns lit the large room; in the dim light, she was just able to see a figure sitting up on one of the far beds. “Remus?” she called, walking toward him.

“G-greta?” his choked voice came from that direction. Quickening her pace, she reached her brother in a matter of seconds. Madame Pomfrey opened her office door just as Greta sat down next to him.

“Who is it?” the nurse called. “Is something wrong?” She held a lantern in her hand, staring down the long room in concern. She saw the two of them sitting and made her way toward them. “Are your wounds still sore, dear?” she asked Remus gently. “What’s wrong?” her tone changed suddenly when he did not reply and she saw his tear-soaked face.

Greta shook her head at the nurse. The other witch put down her lantern and sat on Remus’ other side, looking concerned.

“You…won’t have to…heal me anymore,” Remus choked out.

Madame Pomfrey and Greta shared a confused look. “What do you mean?” the nurse asked.

“I’m going to be kicked out!” he said loudly. “They know! They hate me! They’ll tell everyone and I’ll have to leave!”

“That’s not true,” Greta said immediately, overcoming her terror and looking quickly to Madame Pomfrey for support. “Professor Dumbledore said he’d modify everyone’s memories, remember? So you won’t have to worry about it!”

“I don’t want him to change their memories,” he said angrily. “They’ll just find out again. I can’t live like this, lying forever…”

“If it’s a matter of your education, you  _ have _ to make them forget,” the Healer said sternly. “I’ll go talk to Dumbledore right now. He’ll work something out.”

“No! Don’t…go…” Remus collapsed on his bed. 

“Remus?  _ Remus! _ ” Greta leaned over her brother in terror. He did not move. “Is he okay?” she looked over at Madame Pomfrey frantically.

The nurse walked back over quickly and checked him over. “He’s just sleeping,” she assured Greta. “Everything’s just caught up to him.”

* * *

“We have to tell someone! What if he’s planning to attack? What if he wants to attack  _ us _ to keep it quiet?”

James continued to ramble on, and Sirius sighed. Sure, he had been surprised—even angry—to find out that Remus was keeping such a secret. When he saw James and Peter’s reaction, though, he quickly forgave him.  _ Of course he lied to us. _

“You coming, Sirius?” James cut into his thoughts. He looked up, very irritated.

“Coming where?”

“We’re talking to Dumbledore about this! He can’t just stay in school without anyone knowing!”

Sirius had a strong suspicion that most of the staff already knew about Remus’ illness, but James was already out the door, Peter trailing behind. He sighed heavily and followed them.

Somehow, the boys were able to find their way to the Headmaster’s office. “How did McGonagall open it?” James asked the empty hall impatiently.

“She had a password, didn’t she?” Peter offered tentatively. James swore.

“My, my, Mister Potter,” the old man’s voice said from behind them. All three boys spun around to stare up at Dumbledore, who stared right back, looking amused. “Well, what is your urgent message?”

“We need to talk, sir,” James said shortly. “In your office.”

Dumbledore looked at the three of them a moment longer. “What might this be about?”

“In your office, please, sir,” Peter said in a more respectful tone.

Another moment passed, and Sirius thought the Headmaster might refuse. But finally he nodded, and the boys soon found themselves standing in the enormous office once again.

“Lupin’s a  _ monster _ , Professor!” James exploded. “How come—”

Dumbledore sighed heavily, cutting him off. “I thought that might be it.” Nobody moved for a moment. The old man’s next action caught Sirius off guard:

He pulled out his wand.

“So you feel differently about him now?” the Headmaster asked.

“Of course we do! How could we treat him the same now we know the truth?” James nearly yelled, staring at the wand apprehensively.

“Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to ruin Mr Lupin’s education,” the Headmaster said calmly. He raised his wand to point directly at them.

Sirius was totally lost.  _ Would he really kill us to keep this quiet…? _

“You will not remember anything about Mister Lupin’s condition. I assure you this will not hurt at all.”

Sirius suddenly understood— _ He’s going to wipe our memories! _ Gasps from his right proved that his friends had some to the same conclusion.

“ _ Ob _ —”

“Wait!”

A new voice came from behind them.  _ Who is it now? _ Sirius wondered vaguely, realizing he still knew Remus was a werewolf.

“He said—not to—wipe their memories,” a winded Madame Pomfrey said, looking imploringly at the Headmaster.

“What?” Sirius head his own voice ask the question on everyone’s mind.  _ Why would he try to save our memories when he knows we can’t be friends anymore? _ As much as Sirius was willing to forgive him—he was their friend for a whole year, after all!—he knew James and Peter would be more than reluctant.  _ I’ll just have to change that, won’t I? _

“He said he didn’t want to do it over again,” the nurse said, sending a livid look to the three second years. “He’d rather have you hate him than have to lie to you.”

Sirius was taken aback.  _ He’d rather have no friends? _

“What are you saying, Poppy?” Dumbledore asked calmly, looking over at the nurse. His wand was still raised toward Sirius and the others.

“Don’t wipe their memories! He doesn’t want them to forget!”

“You boys are to tell no one about Mister Lupin’s condition, then,” Dumbledore said decisively, putting his wand away.

“But sir!” James said loudly. “He’s dangerous—he can’t stay! What if—”

“Mister Lupin is the same as he was when you met him. He has been transforming since he arrived at Hogwarts, kept in a safehouse where he will not attack anyone.”

James glared at the headmaster. “But if he changes some other time—”

“I can assure you that Mister Lupin would not change of his own free will, even if he could,” the nurse said sternly. “He has never even so much as  _ seen _ another human while transformed.”

James huffed. “Fine. I won’t tell anyone. But I don’t have to ever talk to him again.”

Dumbledore bowed his head, his face grave. “I cannot force you to do that.”

“You boys had better go back to your room,” Madame Pomfrey said harshly. James seemed only too happy to oblige; he spun around and walked away quickly. Peter followed him, shutting the door behind them. Sirius stood, uncertain, in the middle of the office. A thought had just occurred to him.

“Do you need something else, Black?” Madame Pomfrey asked, obviously attempting to stay civil with him.

“I just—I was wondering something,” Sirius said quietly, more docile than he had ever been in his life. Maybe it was because of that that the Healer’s face softened.

“What is it?”

“You said Remus’ been a werewolf since before he came here…when was he turned?”

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “Mr Lupin was bitten by Fenrir Greyback when he was six years old.”

Sirius heard himself gasp.  _ Six? _ He only vaguely remembered that far back into his own childhood, but he knew he did not have to worry about changing into a bloodthirsty monster once a month.  _ Merlin… _

“You had better return to your room as well, Mr Black,” Dumbledore said.

Sirius hesitated. “I don’t hate him,” he said finally.

Dumbledore smiled. “I’m sure that will mean a lot to him. Just try and convince James and Peter.”

* * *

Once back in the common room, Sirius did just that. He cornered the other two boys in a secluded part of the room and explained, in no kind words, that they were completely, one hundred percent  _ wrong. _ This did nothing but anger James further.

“You’re falling for it?” he asked incredulously. “He’s not a boy, he’s a monster! Why don’t you understand?”

“He hasn’t changed since we’ve known him, at all,” Sirius shot back. “Why don’t  _ you _ understand?”

“That’s the thing! He’s been lying to us about this all this time! He’s probably been lying in wait to get the perfect chance to kill us!” James was beyond angry now, but then, so was Sirius. “Why would you ever stick up for something like that? It doesn’t deserve—”

That was the last straw for Sirius.

He drew back his fist and punched James on the jaw,  _ hard _ . Peter gasped loudly, and James simply stared for a moment, as if he didn’t fully comprehend what had just happened. His hand rose to gently touch the tender area, and just as slowly, his eyes met Sirius’. All at once, he was furious, drawing back his own hand, fully intending to punch Sirius in the gut—

But before he could, Peter was holding onto his arm, asking desperately for them not to fight. They were supposed to be  _ best friends _ , dammit, and best friends don’t beat each other up in the middle of the common room—

Sirius spun on his heel, so much like what Remus had done an hour earlier, and walked toward the door quickly, not trusting himself to look at anything but what was directly ahead of him. He left the common room, ignoring the Fat Lady’s calls that it was well past curfew, and started walking.

* * *

Remus and Greta returned to the common room soon after. Seeing his former friends in a far corner, he knew what he had to do. Even if he was staying at Hogwarts, he knew James would not be happy if he stayed in the same dormitory.

He ran up to the deserted room and packed his trunk quickly. Term had only started two weeks before, so it was not difficult. Soon enough, he dragged it out of the room.

_ Maybe I’ll ask the first years if I can put my trunk there and use their bathroom…and I’ll sleep in the common room. _ He did not even need a proper dormitory to live at Hogwarts, after all.  _ A school is for learning, not for making friends! _

Remus went down to the bottom floor of the dorms and knocked on the door. A short, blonde boy with round cheeks answered nervously. “Who’re you?”

“Remus Lupin, I’m a second year. Could I keep my trunk in your room, please?”

“Uh…don’t you have your own room?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve kind of been kicked out. I’ll sleep in the common room, but I need to put my trunk somewhere and use your bathroom. Is that okay with you and the others?” he looked over the boy’s shoulder to see four other pairs of eyes staring at him.

“Um…I guess. Is this going to be a permanent thing or what?” The boy opened the door wider to allow him entrance.

“I dunno. Depends on if me and my old roommates make up or not.”  _ So, yeah, it’ll be permanent. _ “Don’t worry. I won’t bug you, okay? I’ll come in early and be quick. You won’t even know I’m here.”

* * *

Minerva sighed heavily as her first Tuesday class, second year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, filed in loudly. This was one of her most trying classes—mostly because of the Gryffindor boys.

She saw Potter’s scruffy head find a seat near the back and sit down next to Pettigrew. Black sat at the table in front of them—which was an odd thing in and of itself—and completely ignored the others.

_ Where’s Remus? _

She glanced at her calendar, but she knew the full moon had been two weeks before. The chair next to Black remained empty for several minutes before class, and Minerva was getting worried. Then she saw him trailing behind Evans, Keen, and MacDonald. 

The girls sat down as they usually did, near the front. They had traded off sitting at the third seat since the beginning of their first year, and apparently it was Evans’ turn. She sat at the desk behind the other two, and the girls continued their conversation.

Remus seemed to hesitate. There were only two empty seats: next to Black and next to Evans. He stood for a moment at the back of the classroom, looking at his friend uncertainly, before he noticed the seat near the front. His face relaxed instantly and he sped up to Evans.

“Can I sit here?”

“Um…I guess,” she said, clearly confused. “Why—”

“Thanks.” He cut her off and sat down.

Minerva saw the gleeful faces of Potter and Pettigrew, but she also saw the pained expression plain on Black’s.  _ What in Merlin’s name is going on? _

* * *

_ I don’t need friends… _

Remus thought he was getting along relatively well. He had found someone new to sit next to in all of his classes, and none had questioned it—to his face, at least. Every night he sat either in a corner of the common room or in the library, doing homework or reading.

_ I don’t need friends. _

He had spent the rest of the week convincing himself of that fact, and he eventually came to accept it. His neck was sore every morning from sleeping on couches, but he reasoned that it was a small price to pay for his excellent Hogwarts education.

_ I don’t need friends! _

* * *

On Friday, his last class was Transfiguration. He sat next to Alena Keen this time, and politely ignored the girls’ conversation until the bell rang.

“Mr Lupin, a word?” McGonagall asked from her desk. Many of his classmates stared—they all were wondering why he had not sat with his former friends for a week. Obviously they thought they might find out if they stayed to listen.

“The rest of you are dismissed,” the professor said loudly, shooing the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs toward the door. “What happened between all of you?” she continued as soon as everyone else was gone.

Remus laughed humorlessly. “What do you think, Professor?”

“ _ They found out _ ?” she asked incredulously. “Professor Dumbledore said he’d erase their memories! Has he not heard about this?”

“I don’t want them to forget,” Remus said simply. “I don’t want to lie to them anymore.”

“But what if they—”

“They swore not to tell anyone,” he cut her off. “I don’t need friends to finish school. As long as they keep it a secret, I’ll be fine.”

_ Who am I trying to convince? _

McGonagall looked at him for a long moment. “I think you do need them,” she said finally. “You look terrible, and isn’t this supposed to be one of your healthy weeks?”

Remus shrugged; he had decided not to think about that too much. “I’m fine, Professor. Really.”

She sighed heavily. “Very well. Good luck, then, Mr Lupin.”


	27. Chapter 27

Lily was worried.

Ever since the past Tuesday when he asked to sit next to her, Remus Lupin had not spoken one single word to his—former—friends. The other three almost seemed to be  _ avoiding _ him, as odd as that seemed. Though, she reminded herself, Sirius Black also seemed to be avoiding the other two. He even went so far as trying to speak to Remus a couple of times. Lily never knew what was said between them, but she knew Sirius walked away looking dejected each time.

The rest of the second years were buzzing with the news, swapping rumors, wondering why on Earth the seemingly invincible group of friends had shattered overnight. “I wonder what he did to them,” Severus said mildly on Thursday. Though he had never been one to give into trends and talk about the most popular thing around, Lily was sure this was of special interest to him. 

Nevertheless, the red-head could not help feeling bad for her fellow Gryffindor. “I dunno. I guess it’s not our business, is it? Try not to be mean to him, though,” Lily pressed her friend. “He hasn’t ever done anything to you, has he?”

The Slytherin scowled. “I guess not.”

Lily decided to ask Remus if he wanted to hang out with her, Alena, and Mary. She knew asking him to be friends with Severus was a stretch, but she thought that would be good as well.

She ran this past her friends in the common room, and they shrugged. “I guess I don’t have a problem with him,” Alena said slowly. “It’s just, what do you think happened between him and the other three?”

“It’s not our business to know,” Mary said. “Everybody needs friends, and Lupin doesn’t have any. We might as well offer.”

* * *

On Sunday, nearly a week after Remus’ friends started ignoring him, Lily tracked down her fellow Gryffindor at dinner while he sat by his sister near the end of the table. “Hey, Remus,” she said, loud enough to be heard over the roar of conversation. He looked up at her in surprise. “Do you want to come sit with us?”

His eyes grew even wider. “…Well, I’m almost done,” he gestured to his near-empty plate. “So I’ll be going soon…”

“That’s okay,” Lily said brightly. “Maybe you can sit with us in the common room later? I know Alena’s having trouble with Defense, and you’re top of the class.”

“Er…okay,” he said uncertainly. “I’ll find you later.”

“Great, thanks! I’ll tell her,” Lily said happily, waved, and went back to her seat. “You have a tutor for Defense now, Alena,” she said, grinning at her friend.

The dark-haired girl scowled. “I told you I’ll get it once I study!”

“He wouldn’t have said yes if I just asked him to be friends,” Lily explained patiently. She had observed enough of his behavior to know that he was a bit of a recluse.  _ Or a lot of one.  _ “I had to find an excuse to get him to sit with us.”

Alena huffed. “I hate it when you’re right.”

* * *

Remus appeared in the common room a few hours later, just as Lily was about to give up hope that he would come at all. He walked to their table quickly, dropping his bag and sitting down next to Alena. “Sorry, I wanted to get the Transfiguration essay done first.”

“That’s all right!” Alena said, smiling. “I just need a little help…”

The boy nodded and began explaining the week’s lesson to Alena. The four worked contently for an hour or so until a loud commotion nearby caught their attention.

“Yes! He posted it! The Quidditch team!”

Lily would recognize that voice anywhere; James Potter, she was disgusted to see, was beaming and pumping his fist in the air. His Quidditch robes were filthy, and his hair was messier than usual. “Pete! Sirius! I made Chaser!”

Lily thought it was odd how the three boys seemed to have made amends so easily while Remus was still ostracized. Black, indeed, seemed happy enough for the boy, though his congratulations were much more reserved than Pettigrew’s. “Yeah, practice starts tomorrow so I’ll…” he noticed Remus sitting at the table near him, and his eyes widened just a bit. He scooted over several inches before continuing “…I’ll have to go make sure my broom’s in good shape and all—”

Sirius scoffed, looking both amused and irritated. “First, though, you stink. Go take a shower before you knock out the whole House!”

I don’t smell!” Potter said indignantly to his black-haired friend.

“You’re muddy and smelly. I can barely breathe standing here next to you!” Lily, not much farther away than Black, could not smell much of anything, but figured that the boy had either an incredible nose or an ulterior motive.

“All right, all right,” Potter finally acquiesced good-naturedly, heading for the dormitory stairs.

“Stop trying to convince us,” Peter whispered to Sirius. Lily barely heard him. “You know you’ll never change our minds…”

“Maybe you should go take a shower, too,” Black said, looking marginally angrier than he had a minute ago. “I’m going for a walk. Don’t follow me.”

Pettigrew looked at him in confusion before following Potter up the stairs quickly. Sirius also momentarily glanced at Lily’s table before exiting the common room again.

Lily was totally lost. She wanted very badly to ask Remus why there were avoiding him, but he seemed to have been trying very hard to ignore their whole conversation.  _ What is going on? _

* * *

Sirius could not remember ever being so angry.

Oh, he had been angry many times in his short twelve years of life. Most of the time, it had been directed at his family. This time, though, he was angry at his two so-called friends. After their near-fight in the common room nearly a week before, Sirius had stormed out, not really set on where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to get away from James before he did something that would only make the situation worse for Remus. 

Though James had cooled off quite a bit since then, and had even apologized for almost punching him, Sirius knew he still harbored, if not hatred, fear of Remus. Every time he brought the subject up—in less-than-kind words—Sirius saw the panic flash through his friend’s eyes. It was absurd, laughably so, that anyone would be afraid of the quiet, kind-tempered boy, but somehow James managed it. Sirius would not put up with that any longer.

He finally arrived at his destination: Professor McGonagall’s office. He knew he was far from her favorite student, but she was the Head of Gryffindor House, and if anyone knew how to change James’ mind, she would. He knocked on the door.

The professor stood in the doorway a moment later, looking at him in confusion. He was not the most expected of appointments, but he started talking anyway—

“It’s kind of important. May I please come in, Professor?”

“Of course,” she said immediately, moving out of the way and closing the door behind him.

“It’s Remus,” he blurted out. “James is being such a bastard about him, and I’ve tried to talk to all three of them about it but no one will listen to reason…I was wondering if you could tell me anything that I could tell them to change James’ and Peter’s minds.”

Her face became very serious. “What do you want to know? You know he was bitten by Greyback when he was six.”

“Yeah, but that was around the same time James was attacked, too,” Sirius said. “I don’t think that’ll help.” He paused. “Wait…you said Remus was attacked by Greyback? Do you know what month?”

“It was near the beginning of the school year,” she said slowly. “His sister missed several weeks of classes near then staying with him at the hospital.”

“James said Greyback was the one after him,” he said thoughtfully. “I think he said it was in September…that’s kind of a big coincidence for them to be attacked so close together, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “You know that man is insane. Maybe they live near each other and he happened to go after Remus soon after James.”

Sirius shrugged. “Anyway. Anything else important that could help me out?”

“He hasn’t  _ ever _ touched a human while he’s transformed,” McGonagall said immediately. “At the loss of his own health…”

“What?” Sirius was alarmed by this.  _ He gets hurt when he turns? _

“You know that werewolves need blood. And if he’s around no other living thing, there’s only one way to satisfy the bloodlust.”

“He attacks himself,” Sirius said in horror. He had never thought about why Remus missed two days  _ after _ the transformation; he had just assumed he was resting after a trying night.  _ How stupid of me! _

McGonagall nodded forlornly “Madame Pomfrey could tell you better than me, but he is quite a mess the morning after.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. “I think you should go to bed, Mr Black,” McGonagall said finally. “Try that and see if it works. I’ll think of more, and I’ll ask Poppy and Albus as well.”

Sirius thanked her and stood up. “Just try and get them straightened out before the full moon,” McGonagall warned him. “God knows what’ll happen if you don’t…”

* * *

The rest of the week flew by for Sirius, who had tried and failed to convince James of Remus’ innocence. “Why do you care what happens to a monster like that?” was all the boy said before walking away. Sirius’ fists clenched, but he was able to restrain himself in time. He had seen the fear in his friend’s eyes again, and it angered him beyond belief.

Peter, who had listened to the whole conversation, shared a quick glance with Sirius.  _ Have I convinced him? _ the black-haired boy thought excitedly, but then Peter shook his head and followed the other out.

It was Monday again—the full moon was five days away—and Sirius had made no visible headway on his friends. And Remus was looking sicker by the day. Usually Sirius did not notice that he looked ill until about three days before, but the boy looked about ready to collapse when his transformation was almost a week away.

He had tried everything he could think of to change their minds: threats, violence, not speaking to them, logic…none of it had worked. Deciding to change tactics, he—almost reluctantly, before reminding himself that it was  _ nothing _ compared to being a werewolf—ventured to the library that night. He visited both the “diseases” and “creatures” sections, and sat in a corner, reading as much as he could about his friend’s illness. What he read horrified him even more.

“Excruciatingly painful transformations…”

“Lose one’s mind while transformed…”

“Many wounds never heal properly…”

“Hurt oneself more if under stress…”

He also found a chart that informed him that Remus himself was a miracle. Apparently, those children who were bitten at the age of six had a one in a thousand chance of surviving the initial attack. Of those, three-quarters would kill themselves while transformed.

“Most werewolves who are bitten young do not live past the age of forty, due to the stress on their bodies,” the book continued. “Any who are bitten as older adults also have a much lower life expectancy. The most common causes of werewolf deaths are homicide and suicide…”

_ Suicide? _

Sirius could not read any more. The thought of Remus killing himself—or of anyone killing Remus—was too much. He hurriedly checked out the book through Madame Pince—who eyed him suspiciously and warned him not to leave a  _ single _ mark on it—and sped back to Gryffindor Tower. He knew Peter would be alone; it was Monday afternoon, and James had Quidditch practice.

Sure enough, the blonde boy was by himself in the dormitory, sorting through his Chocolate Frog Cards. “Hey, Sirius,” he greeted him cheerfully, looking up.

Sirius did not smile. “I need to talk to you, right now.”

Peter’s mirth vanished. “What is it?”

“You’ve seen how sick Remus has looked, right?” Sirius opened the book to the page he had marked. “Read.”

Peter sent him a skeptical look, obviously wondering why he was still bringing it up. As he read the passage, though, his face turned rather white, and he looked up at his friend. “So this is saying…”

“That Remus is about one in four thousand,” Sirius finished, nodding. “And he could, statistically, kill himself any day now.”

Peter put down the book, looking nothing short of terrified. “And it said if he’s stressed, he’ll hurt himself more,” he said slowly.

“We’ve been upsetting him a lot,” Sirius agreed. “So this one—”

Sirius was cut off by the arrival of his messy-haired dorm mate, who grinned when he saw his friends. “How’re you guys doing?”

“I’ve been better,” Sirius snapped. James looked at him, obviously confused. “I have something for you to read. No arguments.” Sirius thrust the book into his hands. “Start there and read until the end of the passage.”

James glanced at the title and rolled his eyes. “Really, Sirius? This again? You can’t convince me to ever—”

“I’m not asking you to be friends with him. I’m just asking you to read the damn article!”

His friend looked slightly put out, but sat down on his bed and read it. Sirius watched him closely for any type of reaction and was astonished when he saw none. “What am I supposed to get out of this?” James asked coolly when he was finished.

“ _ You don’t get it? _ ” Sirius was beyond angry now—he knew his friend was purposefully making himself not care. “Remus could  _ kill _ himself! Especially now that we’ve stopped talking to him! And it  _ says _ —if he’s under stress he’ll hurt himself more than he already does!”

“So?” James said, obviously trying hard not to let any emotion into his voice. Sirius could not tell if the badly concealed fear was of Remus, or for him.

Sirius could not believe what his friend was saying. Even if he had heard that about a complete  _ stranger _ , Sirius was sure he himself would show more concern.

“Remus could die,” Peter said quietly. “It says it’s not unusual for the wolf to kill them. And it’d be our fault.”

James didn’t seem to have a reply to that. He walked quickly to the bathroom door, slamming it behind him. 

Peter looked to be on the verge of tears. Sirius knew he had desperately been avoiding any sort of conflict over the topic since he found out. For him to have contradicted  _ James _ , the article must have upset him quite a bit.

“We’ll convince him,” Sirius assured his friend. “I’m going to look in the library some more. Do you want to come?”

* * *

_ One day. _

It was Friday, October third, and the full moon was looming. He and Peter had searched in the library every spare moment they found, but they had found nothing that could possibly convince James.

On a whim, Sirius wandered into the newspaper archives.  _ Maybe they’ll have a story about James being attacked, _ he thought dully. He pulled the thirty Daily Prophets from September 1966 from the shelf and brought them back to the table. Peter sent him a questioning glance, to which Sirius shrugged and began leafing through them.

An hour or so later and halfway through his pile, Sirius finally struck gold. In one of the Opinions sections, he found a lengthy letter entitled “Worrisome Werewolves—Is Reform Necessary?” and began reading it curiously.

“Peter! This article’s about James!” Sirius said excitedly after reading the first few lines. 

Peter glanced at it, skeptical. “He probably already knows about it,” he said, turning it so they could both read. “Hang on! Isn’t Remus’ dad’s name Ian?”

“I think so,” Sirius was thrown by the odd question. “But…”

Peter pointed at the author of the letter: “Healer Ian Lupin.” “That seems like a big coincidence…”

“Let’s read it,” Sirius said decisively. “Maybe it’s explained.”

A couple of minutes later, Sirius was finished, and he waited for Peter to catch up. As the blonde boy’s eyes travelled lower and lower down the page, his face turned paler and paler. Finally, he reached the end, and he looked up.

“…James said Greyback always attacks for revenge,” he said quietly. Sirius nodded slowly, not knowing where he was coming from. “I can’t imagine he’d take kindly to this article. Can you?”

Sirius finally understood. “So you’re saying that Greyback attacked Remus because his dad wrote this article about James?”

“It makes a lot of sense.” Peter seemed lost in thought. “So if we wanted to be very general, we could say it was James’ fault Remus was attacked…”

“Let’s try it,” Sirius said, standing up. “We don’t have anything else, and we’ve only got until tonight…”

* * *

Several hours later, when they were able to drag James away from his Quidditch to the library, Sirius was feeling almost  _ nervous _ as to how this would play out. He knew it was their last chance to convince the boy that Remus  _ needed _ them, that he hadn’t done anything wrong except the same thing that James himself had done only a month earlier. If that wouldn’t convince him, combined with the imminent threat of Remus’ death, what in the world possibly could?

He heard Peter trying to calm a rather irate James as he walked briskly off to the same newspaper aisle he had visited earlier. Recognizing the correct paper quickly, he grabbed it and sped back to their table, where a nervous Peter and only-slightly-annoyed James sat. “Here,” he said, shoving the paper to James’ chest. Open to page 12 and read the article.”

James looked like he wanted to object, but Sirius shot him his best glare; he opened the newspaper slowly, glancing at the headline and rolling his eyes. Apparently he had caught on that the other two were  _ not _ in the mood to argue, though, and read it without comment.

“So Remus got attacked because his dad wrote this article,” James said simply, putting the paper down haphazardly when he was finished. “I guess that sucks for the Lupins, but—”

“That’s not all of it,” Peter cut in, surprising all of them. “If you hadn’t brought attention to yourself like that, Mr Lupin wouldn’t have written the article, and Remus wouldn’t have been targeted.”

James’ eyebrows shot up, and a small, incredulous grin spread across his face. “You’re really blaming  _ me _ ? That’s the most ridiculous thing—”

Sirius saw immediately that their tactic was going nowhere, and decided to change it. “Do you remember what it was like when you were attacked?” he asked harshly, making sure James was looking into his eyes, paying attention. “You probably panicked, you ran away—”

“ _ Anyone _ would run away if they met a werewolf!” James defended himself, also getting worked up. “You haven’t seen one, they’re huge monsters, and—”

“—and it’s obviously a hundred times worse for Remus that he has to  _ change into one every month _ ,” Sirius said through gritted teeth. “You were scared for one night in your life. He has to be scared for one night a month. You can’t say he enjoys that!”

James seemed to be trying to make a smart comeback to that, but gave up after he opened and closed his mouth a few times. “You can’t say it’s my fault,” he said finally, defensive. “I didn’t even know the kid before last year. Don’t try and guilt me into something I didn’t do!”

“No, you didn’t know him back then. But you know him now. And the full moon’s tonight and he’s going to go beat himself up again, and he can’t even pretend it’ll all be okay because he doesn’t have anyone to fall back on!”

“His sister…” he said weakly, obviously affected by Sirius’ words.

“Greta is the _only_ _thing_ keeping Remus sane right now,” he continued. “Sisters are great, but what’s he going to do when she leaves next year? He’s going to be all alone, because _you’re_ too scared to admit that you’re wrong.”

James sat, slumped in his chair, a stark contrast to what he had been ten minutes ago. “He really might die?” he asked in a small voice, looking at the two of them, almost begging them to say no.

“We’ve told you that before,” Peter said quietly, looking very distraught. “Especially because we’ve been ignoring him. He’s been upset, and stressed, and it’ll be worse than usual.”

He said nothing for a moment, only stared, unseeing, at his hands. “What can we do?” he asked finally, looking desperately up at them.

“We apologize. Before he has to leave to transform,” Sirius said, standing up authoritatively. “We need to go to the Hospital Wing right now, before he’s already passed out or locked away.”

James stood up also, a frantic look in his eye. “Let’s go.”


	28. Chapter 28

According to the only other patient in the ward, a red-haired boy Sirius recognized from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, they were only a few minutes too late. Madame Pomfrey had left carrying a younger boy, he said, but she didn’t say where they were going. All he knew was that she would be back within half an hour.

Sirius was very upset by this news.  _ We’re too late _ . Even though he had finally convinced James of Remus’ innocence, after all the work, the effort, the worry, they were a few minutes too late from saving their friend from his almost certain death.  _ And it’s all our fault. _ If only he had thought to look in the library earlier, if he had been more forceful with convincing the other two, maybe none of this would have happened! Remus wouldn’t be deliriously sick and being carried to his inevitable doom, all because his three so-called friends were too idiotic to realize what a great person he was.

Unsurprisingly, James was taking it worse than he was. On the walk back to their dormitory, he was shaking uncontrollably, his face pale as death. “He can’t die…he can’t die…” he kept repeating to himself, a mantra. Somehow, Sirius found it soothing.

“Maybe he’ll be all right,” Peter said, unrealistically hopeful. “He’s been transforming for years, right? So maybe he’s tough enough to survive.”

Sirius thought it rather unlikely, but also thought it best not to say as much in front of James, who was latching onto Peter’s words like a lifeline.

“You could go back in the morning,” Sirius suggested to James. “Under your Cloak. To see how he is…” To be truthful, he had no idea exactly how bad Remus looked immediately after his transformation. If it really was as bad as many of the books said, maybe it wasn’t a good idea for James to see him.  _ But if he dies, he’ll never forgive himself. He needs to do this. _

James nodded fervently in agreement. “What time, do you think? Six?” he asked, glancing out the window at the setting sun, a horribly sad look on his face.

* * *

Madame Pomfrey was moving around a bed in the very back corner when James opened the door as quietly as possible. He sped right past his Quidditch teammate’s bed and saw exactly what Madame Pomfrey was doing.

_ He can’t be back already! _ A quick glance out one of the tall windows told him it was still quite dark outside. As he approached her silently, he saw that she was simply preparing the bed for Remus’ arrival.

He thought of seating himself on a nearby bed and waiting, but then realized anyone could see the imprint he made on the sheets. He decided instead to sit on the stone floor against the wall, waiting for sunrise.

An half an hour later, Greta walked in the room, wearing a bathrobe, looking as if she had not slept at all. Madame Pomfrey nodded to her somberly as she left, presumably to get the boy. James thought briefly of following her to wherever they kept him overnight, but thought better of it.  _ If she catches me, it might distract her from Remus. Put him in even more danger than we already have… _

Several minutes passed. Greta could not seem to stand still; she paced back and forth near the door, anxiously awaiting the Healer’s return. James also moved to stand near the door.

A few minutes later, the nurse finally returned, slamming the door open and heading quickly toward the nearest bed. James could not believe what he saw, but his strangled cry was covered by Greta’s inhuman scream.

* * *

Gideon Prewett was awakened suddenly by a loud noise. Before he could see quite well enough to figure out what was going on, he could hear a lot of scuffling around the bed right next to his. Rolling over blearily—minding his temporarily de-boned left arm—all he saw was quite a lot of red on a stationary figure, the sheets and the floor.

_ Blood?! _

Trying to get his murky mind to catch up with the world, he sat up, and better saw what was going on. Something—it barely looked human, it was so disfigured—was laying on the bed. Madame Pomfrey was trying desperately to stop the flow of blood. A familiar girl was sobbing against the wall, out of the way of the Healer.

_ …Lupin? _

The smell of blood and the picture of the mess in front of him made Gideon nauseous.  _ What the hell happened? _

“Prewett!” Madame Pomfrey said, without looking up from her impossibly fast spellwork. “Go get Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. Right now.”

“What happened to—” he asked the nurse, realizing with a fresh wave of horror that her spells seemed to be doing nothing to stop the bleeding.

“Go! Do you want him to die?” the desperation in her voice roused Gideon immediately. He chanced one last look at the boy before he sped out of the Wing, racing through familiar secret passages to get to his Head of House’s office in record time.

He banged on the door loudly with his good arm, hoping with all his might that she was there. “Professor! Please! Open up!”

A few seconds later, the Transfiguration teacher opened the door, her hair down and glasses askew. “What is it, Prewett?”

“You need to go—quick—Madame Pomfrey said—” he realized he was not making much sense. “There’s someone really hurt in the Hospital Wing, I don’t even know if he’s still  _ alive _ —”

The professor’s face changed immediately; she swept past him out the door. “Get Professor Dumbledore,” she said, urgency in her voice. “The password to his office is ‘ice mice.’ Go, now!” And she was gone down the hallway.

_ She almost seemed to know what was going on, _ Gideon mused as he ran up several flights of stairs to reach the Headmaster’s office.  _ But how would she— _

“Ice mice!” he gasped to the gargoyle. The staircase could not rise quickly enough; he nearly banged the door down with his knocking once he reached the top.

“Come in.” Dumbledore’s calm voice was such a contrast to the tense situation that Gideon almost laughed. He burst through the door and quickly turned to Dumbledore, who smiled up at him from behind his desk.

“What can I do for you, Mr Prewett?”

“There’s a little boy in the Hospital Wing—he looks like he’s dead—Madame Pomfrey said to get you—” he was very out of breath after so much running around, but it was of the utmost importance that Dumbledore go to the boy. The Headmaster was about as close to perfect as anyone could get, and if anyone could save that boy, it was him.

Dumbledore did not reply; his expression was immediately quite serious, and he quickly led the way to the Hospital Wing. Upon their arrival, Gideon saw that blood was still flowing freely from innumerable wounds, and the nurse seemed to be resorting to replenishing the boy’s blood.

“I can’t heal him,” she said tearfully to the Headmaster. “It’s all I can do to keep him from bleeding out…”

“I will go to St Mungo’s for help,” the old man said immediately. Madame Pomfrey offered her thanks, and he walked quickly to the fireplace, disappearing into the green flames.

Gideon did not quite know what to do. McGonagall was trying her hardest to assist Madame Pomfrey, but there was little help she could offer. Both women were crying freely.

Then Gideon remembered his classmate against the wall. Greta Lupin was his fellow seventh year Gryffindor, but they had never been especially close. He figured it was the least he could to do try to comfort her.

He sat down on the floor next to her and put his good arm around her shoulders. She did not say anything; she just leaned into him and continued sobbing.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Gideon said after a while. The red-head had not actually thought of what he would say to her; he had no experience in comforting sobbing women. He figured being as optimistic as possible about the boy’s fate was a safe bet.

“I—d-don’t want—him to—die,” she said quietly, in between hiccups.

“Is he your brother?” Gideon guessed.

She nodded. “He’s only—twelve—he can’t—” and she dissolved into tears again.

* * *

James stood against the wall of the Hospital Wing, too scared and horrified to move. Any residual feelings of apprehension toward Remus flew out of him at the sight of his friend—one of his  _ best friends _ —bleeding his life all over the bed, the floor, the women trying so desperately to save his life.

_ I caused this. If I hadn’t been such an arse to him, he wouldn’t be so hurt! _ James knew he had absolutely nobody to blame but himself. He had been far too stubborn to admit that maybe he had been wrong, maybe he should have been humble for once in his life and admitted that the world wasn’t all sunshine and damn  _ rainbows _ as he had been led to believe, as he had forced himself to believe.  _ This is all my fault. Remus is going to die, and I’m going to have to live with that forever. _

To James’ immense relief, Dumbledore soon returned with half a dozen Healers, who barely flinched at the sight in front of them before helping Madame Pomfrey. McGonagall moved away, walking toward Greta and Gideon Prewett. “Thank you, Gideon,” she said very kindly, cleaning the blood off her robes with a spell. She sat down on Greta’s other side. The girl was still sobbing uncontrollably, and James could not blame her; if he did not need to be silent, he probably would be as well.

“They’ve got it under control,” McGonagall assured her. “Those are some of the best Healers for—these things,” she changed what she was going to say, glancing at Gideon briefly.

“Mum…and dad…” Greta whispered.

“Do you want to call them here or wait until they take him to St Mungo’s?” the professor asked gently.

Greta dissolved into a fresh wave of tears. “He could die—and I’d never forgive myself—”

“He’s not going to die,” McGonagall said soothingly. “And it was nobody’s fault. We just need to get through it and hope it never happens again, right?”

James could not stand it anymore. He walked quickly toward the door and opened it, hoping everyone was too busy to notice. As soon as he was down the hall, he took off the Cloak and sprinted the rest of the way to the Tower.

* * *

An hour or so later, the Healers finally declared Remus stable enough to be transferred to the hospital. Greta was still a mess, so Minerva agreed to accompany her, Floo her parents, and wait with her until they arrived.

As soon as everyone was situated in the immediate care ward, Minerva sped back to the lobby to use one of the fireplaces.

“Remus Lupin’s house!”

Nobody was in the kitchen as far as she could see. “Is anyone there?” she called desperately. She heard steps coming from her left, and a very tired-looking woman in Muggle clothing walked in.

“Who might you be? Ian’s not in right now,” she said kindly.

“I’m Professor McGonagall, from Hogwarts. You’re Mrs Lupin?”

She nodded, immediately looking worried. “Is there something wrong? Are Remus and Greta all right?”

“It’s Remus…he’s definitely seen better,” the professor answered. “He’s had kind of a rough month, so it was a bad transformation…”

The woman looked horrified. “Where is he?”

“They just brought him to St Mungo’s. they say he’s better than he was half an hour ago, but it’s still pretty bad.”

“I’ll Floo right now,” Mrs Lupin said quickly. “Ian’s at work, but he works somewhere on the first floor there…he probably already knows.”

_ I didn’t know Ian turned out to be a Healer! _ Minerva had been in the same year as the elder Lupin, but he had been in Ravenclaw. “I can look for him. Remus is in intensive care.”

Seconds later, she was running across the lobby again and up the stairs to the first floor. She grabbed the first Healer she could find—a sandy-haired witch—and asked if she knew where Ian Lupin was.

“He was supposed to be helping that mess that just came in,” she pointed to the ICU, “but I think he’s helping stabilize a new werewolf. I can show you where he is, but he may not be able to leave—”

“It’s an emergency,” Minerva said. The young witch shrugged and led the professor down the hall.

“Healer Lupin!” she yelled into the room. “Professor McGonagall says she needs to speak with you, but if you’re busy—”

Ian was at the door in seconds. “What’s wrong? Is it Remus? Where is he?”

“Down the hall. He had a bad night, and Poppy couldn’t handle it on her own.”

Ian turned very white. He muttered something to the other Healer, who went quickly into the ward behind him. Then he led the way down to where Remus was.

Greta and her mother were sitting in a corner, out of the way, crying quietly. Ian sped into the room and tried to see his son.

“Oh, you’re here!” one of the healers said. “Thank Merlin! We’ve stopped a lot of the blood, but we’re a bit concerned about his organs, and…” he trailed off, “he broke his spine.”

Minerva heard herself gasp, and Greta’s sobs grew louder. She could not remember quite well enough to be sure, but she thought magic could heal spines.  _ But how long does it take? _

“Poppy, go back to Hogwarts,” Ian was saying. His voice trembled the slightest bit. “We’ll let you know if anything happens.”

The school nurse opened her mouth to object, but Ian held up a hand. “I need to try and save him. I can’t leave my son.”

Poppy sighed. “Fine. But if  _ anything _ at  _ all _ happens…” She turned around and headed for the door. Mrs Lupin caught her arm as she passed by, looking up at her imploringly.

“Your magic can save him, right?”

The Healer glanced back at the bed, surrounded by wizards in white robes. “As long as nothing else happens, he should recover,” she said finally, “and they should be able to fix his spine, too. But it may take at least a week of constant care…cases like these are unpredictable.”

The woman nodded her thanks, and Minerva followed Poppy out the door. “Those weren’t empty words, were they?” the Animagus asked her companion in the lobby.

“No, he should be fine eventually,” she replied. “But, like I said, things pop up. Infections, wounds opening…he’ll be out of school for quite some time.” She was trying her best to intellectualize the situation, but the emotion cracking her voice was clear.

* * *

Gideon and Dumbledore were the only people left in the Hospital Wing after everyone left for St Mungo’s. “Professor, what happened to that kid? Did something attack him?” Gideon asked weakly. The blood had been cleaned away, but the sight and smell of the scene were still fresh in Gideon’s memory. “Will he be all right, do you think?”

Dumbledore sighed. “We will have to wait for news, but he is definitely not in good shape.”

“But he’s alive,” Gideon said hopefully.

“For now.”

The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Dumbledore turned again to the seventh year and said, quite seriously, “You must tell no one what you just saw. Do not tell your brother, your friends…anybody.”

Gideon was very confused. “Why, sir? People will start to wonder, his friends—”

“He has no friends,” Dumbledore cut him off rather bluntly.

Gideon was shocked.  _ No friends? How can someone survive like that? _

“It is for the best if nobody knows what you saw here,” the Headmaster repeated. “If you are unwilling to agree to this, I will have to use a Memory Charm.”

_ What the hell? _ “That’s fine, I guess,” he said at last. “But I want to know how he’s doing, at least. It’s Greta’s little brother, sir!”

Dumbledore bowed his head. “If he has not returned by the time you are released, I’m sure Miss Lupin will fill you in.”

The fire blazed green a while later. Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall appeared in quick succession, wearing slightly less panicked expressions than when they had left.

“They think he’ll make it,” the nurse told the two men in relief, “but he’s hurt himself pretty badly, so he’ll be there a while.”

Gideon felt himself relax a little. “When is he supposed to be better, then?” he asked.

“They don’t know. Probably in a week, if nothing goes wrong.”

* * *

Minerva had scarcely arrived back at Hogwarts before she took off across the school, headed straight for Gryffindor Tower.  _ If he dies… _

She quickly gave the password to the Fat Lady and ran up the stairs to her second year boys’ dormitory. When knocking did not produce an immediate response, she opened the door, expecting to have to wake up the unruly boys.

What she didn’t expect was three boys sitting silently on their beds with haunted faces.

“Do you know what you have done?” she asked very angrily, shutting the door. None of them replied, but it was not the usual playful silence. All of them looked as if they would never be happy again.

“Will he be okay?” Peter Pettigrew asked in a very small voice.

The Animagus’ wrath dissipated at the scene in front of her. She had never seen her rowdy second years look so cowed, so upset. “As long as nothing else comes up, he should recover. Eventually.”

“What did he do to himself, exactly?” Sirius Black asked quietly—the most docile she had ever seen him. “All James said is it looked like he lost way too much blood…”

Minerva wondered briefly how Potter had seen Remus, but she pushed the thought away.  _ That’s not important. _ “The Healers aren’t entirely sure yet. They know he messed up quite a few of his organs and broke his back—” she heard three distinct gasps— “but Madame Pomfrey said those can be healed.

“The fact remains that he nearly died because of you three,” she continued, much more stern. Potter flinched as if she had slapped him.

“We know,” Black said in the same quiet voice. “I want to talk to him as soon as he’s awake.”

“Absolutely not!” Minerva said. “Your presence will not help him heal. You can see him when he comes back.”

“When will that be?” Pettigrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“In a week or so if he’s lucky and nothing else comes up.” She looked at the messy-haired boy, who had yet to say anything. “Do you still hate him, Potter?”

He shook his head the slightest bit. “Good. You all can talk when he comes back from St Mungo’s, but not before.”

She turned to go. “Professor,” Potter’s voice finally come from behind her. It sounded broken, lost. “Can you tell him when he wakes up that I’m sorry?”

“You will have to tell him yourself, Potter,” the Transfiguration professor said calmly, and left the room.

* * *

“How can I make it up to him?” James asked in a broken voice after the professor left. “If there’s a way to save him from hurting himself…”  _ And a way to cleanse my guilt… _

“There’s no cure,” Sirius said, looking very upset.

“Maybe—if I could take his place—so he wouldn’t have to—” James was desperate.  _ How can he ever forgive me? I know I’ll never forgive myself! _ “Maybe there’s a spell or potion so we can switch bodies…”

“We can check in the library…” Sirius looked doubtful. “But that’d be really advanced Transfiguration.”

“This is  _ my fault _ !” James exploded, finally unable to hold back the emotions he had bottled up. “I need to make it up to him! He’ll never forgive me even if I do, but I can’t do anything but try and apologize…”


	29. Chapter 29

Remus awoke to a great amount of pain. It was not a foreign feeling to him, but it was much more intense than normal.

He could not see the room he was in; something—most likely a bandage—was obscuring his vision. There were more than one or two voices surrounding him, though, and he realized with a start that he recognized none of them.

He tried to shift himself slightly on the bed, and three things happened at once. The voices around him grew louder, intense pain shot through his chest, neck, and arms, and he realized the lower half of his body would not move.

_ What the hell? _

“Mr Lupin! Can you hear me?” an unfamiliar voice said loudly near his ear. Remus jumped—more pain—and nodded. The voices sounded relieved, yelling things across the room. Remus wondered if the whole school was in the Hospital Wing, watching him.  _ So much for keeping it secret. _

Then, finally, a familiar voice arrived. “Remus! Thank God!”

_ Mum? _

He could only wonder for a second why his mother was at Hogwarts before he was embraced in a gentle hug.

“Ma’am,” a voice said above them. “He’s still injured. You shouldn’t—“ He stopped suddenly for some reason.

_ What the hell is going on? _

He opened his mouth to ask, but his mother spoke first. “You can’t talk, dear. The Healers said you hurt your neck badly, and it’s not completely healed yet.”

_ Healers? What’s going on? Where am I? _

“You’re in St Mungo’s. It’s Wednesday,” another familiar voice explained from nearby. 

_ Greta? She should be in class! _

“We thought you’d never wake up! You really scared us for a while there.” His sister’s voice cracked.

Remus smiled, hoping she understood he was sorry. “But thank God you’ll be all right!” his mother continued. “They’ve fixed most of your bleeding and a lot of your organs, so you’ll probably be out of here in a few days.”

“We have to keep working, Mrs Lupin,” a kind voice said from above him. The pressure of his mother’s arms disappeared. Two pairs of footsteps walked away, and Remus felt several people surround him again.

“We might as well work on his throat, now that he’s awake,” a deep voice said. “Schaller, go get…”

Remus stopped paying attention to the people above him and began wondering about his other injuries. If his neck had been so low on their list of priorities that the Healers had not started on it until now, what else had the wolf done to his body?

He blinked hard a few times, trying to determine if his eyes were injured or if there was a wound on the back of his head.  _ They seem fine to me… _

He then turned to the more pressing problem: why his legs would not respond.  _ Are they still there? _ he wondered in panic. He thought he could still feel their presence, but he had heard of phantom limbs.  _ But they would have told me, right…? _

“Remus,” the same deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “These spells may hurt a little. As long as you don’t move, we should only have to do them once.”

Remus nodded and then held his head perfectly still. Relatively, the pain in his neck was not much, and the spells were finished within a few minutes.

“See if you can say your name,” the deep voice said.

Remus did so, and a sort of hoarse rasp replaced his voice. He barely recognized the word he was saying.

“It’ll be like that for a little while,” a different voice said soothingly. “You should be able to talk normally by tomorrow or Friday. Just try not to say too much.”

Remus nodded again; he seemed to be doing that a lot. “Legs?” he tried to say, but he could barely understand it himself.

“What?” the kind voice said. Remus swallowed and tried again, gesturing with his heavily bandaged arms toward the appendages he was talking about.

“Oh, your legs? They won’t move?” Remus nodded. There was a pause, and the deep, professional voiced continued where she left off.

“You broke your back. We’ll be able to fix it, but we want to fix the rest of the internal damage first, so you’ll be healthy other than your spine when we work on it. It’s safer that way.”

* * *

Sirius was sure Madame Pince was very wary of him by now, but once again he ventured to the library with his friends. They had been searching the Transfiguration section with little success, and Peter seemed to be losing hope. He had voiced his opinion—more than once—that perhaps there was a better course of action than trading off full moons with their friend. Sirius could see his point; he knew Remus would never agree to it. However, James had been researching like a madman.  _ Trying to make it up to him. _

It was Thursday, and their friend had not yet returned from St Mungo’s. Sirius was starting to worry; McGonagall would not tell them anything about his condition, and Madame Pomfrey was no help either. And James seemed to be getting more and more desperate as the days wore on. They had not yet found anything of value in the Transfiguration section of the library, and Sirius was tempted to start looking in the Potions section. James seemed reluctant, as Transfiguration was his best subject, but he was running out of options.

Friday afternoon found the continuing absence of both their friend and a spell. Sirius drifted into the Potions section, hoping he would have better luck. He picked up several promising-looking books and brought them back to the table. The three boys wordlessly split the pile and continued searching.

Several hours later, they had found absolutely nothing. “We should go back,” Sirius said, shutting his book decisively. “There’s nothing in here, James.”

“There has to be something!” James looked crazed as he read through yet another book.

Sirius put a hand over the page, blocking his view. “Let’s wait until he comes back. Maybe you won’t have to make anything up to him after all.”

* * *

Saturday morning found Remus almost perfectly better—except for his spine. The Healers had taken off his head bandage the evening before and dressed him a set of Gryffindor robes Greta had retrieved from his trunk. His family spent almost all of their time with him, despite Remus’ insistence not to worry.

Two Healers came in early that afternoon to check on him. He did not recognize them immediately—he knew them all by voice rather than sight—but the nametag of the woman sparked his memory.

“Becca…?”

He did not recognize her face, but the name “Rebecca King” reminded him that she was the kind Healer who had explained his condition to him six years before.

She smiled at him. “I was hoping you’d remember me! It’s been a long time, Remus.”

He grinned broadly. “Yeah. You were wrong, you know—I did get to go to Hogwarts!”

“Oh, well, I’m glad that’s what I got wrong!” she replied cheerfully as she walked over. “Well, are you ready to walk again?”

He nodded eagerly; laying in bed for a week with no feeling in his legs was an unsettling experience. “Your dad and Healer Belby here will be fixing it for you. I’m just here to supervise.” The two men walked over to the bed. “Now, we’re going to have to flip you over so they can have a better shot at your spine, all right?”

He nodded, and soon he was laying on his stomach, unable to see anything except the encouraging faces of his mother and sister next to him. He wondered briefly if this Healer Belby was related to the Damocles Belby in his class before the man spoke; he was the deep voice who had talked with him all week. “This may feel strange, but you mustn’t move, or we’ll have to start over again. All right?”

Remus nodded quickly, and the two men began saying long, complicated spells that made his back tingle. Slowly, the feeling began moving from halfway down his back to down his legs, and after several minutes the spells were finished.

“Can you feel anything different?” his father asked. Remus considered the question, and realized that he could indeed feel his legs properly. He nodded, and all the faces he could see split into smiles. “See if you can wiggle your toes.”

Remus did his best, and he thought he succeeded. “Good!” His father seemed incredibly relieved. “You won’t be walking right away, and we’ll get you a walker for a few days before you go back to school. There’s no way you’d be able to bring it to Hogwarts with all the stairs, so we’ll try and get you on your own as soon as possible.”

Remus nodded. “When can I start?”

Healer Belby laughed. “Maybe in a few hours. The spells take time to settle in completely.”

* * *

After two days of walking around the first floor with his red and gold walker (Greta had charmed it for him), Remus felt confident that he could walk around Hogwarts on his own. “If I stay any longer I’ll miss classes!” he argued with his father Monday morning. “I’ve already missed more than a week!”

He thought a moment. “If you can walk down the hall and back with no assistance, I’ll let you go,” he said finally, looking reluctant. “Just don’t carry too many books at once—your back won’t be able to take it for a while yet.”

Remus nodded and stood up slowly from his bed. He walked toward the door and then turned to face the hallway. It was rather long, he realized, but he was not about to give up. The hall was empty, so he walked, determined, down to the far wall, then laboriously came back. It took him several minutes, but Greta cheered all the same.

“I’ll get the papers, then,” his father said, turning toward the stairs. “Make sure you get everything from the ward and meet me in the lobby.”

The stairs proved to be a bit of a challenge, but Remus was able to traverse them with the help of the handrail. “You’re sure you’ll be all right?” his mother asked, worried. “If you want to stay another day I’m sure it’ll get better…”

“I want to go back to school,” he replied decisively. “I’ve got Charms this afternoon. I don’t want to miss it!”

“What will you tell everyone?” she asked anxiously. Remus considered the question.

“Did I fall down three flights of stairs or fall out of a tree in the forest?”

“The tree,” Greta said immediately, “and we couldn’t find you for a while, until some animal thought you were lunch and you screamed.”

“Greta!” their mother said, horrified.

The seventh year shrugged. “It fits pretty well with his injuries. That’s what I’ll tell Amelia and Dorcas, all right? And you tell anyone else that asks.”

Remus nodded as they slowly approached the receptionist, who smiled down at him as she accepted the papers from his father. “Hopefully your back heals quickly,” she said. “Hogwarts’ll be hard to get around if you can’t do stairs!”

“That’s what secret passage are for,” Remus replied, grinning. He hugged his parents gingerly and took some Floo Powder from the jar.

“I’ll go first,” Greta said, “so I can catch you if you’re off balance. Go to the Hospital Wing, okay?” She disappeared in a flash of green flame, and Remus followed after a few more goodbyes.

“How are you feeling?”

Madame Pomfrey tried to pull him to a nearby bed, but Remus resisted. “I’m fine, really! I want to go to class!”

The nurse shook her head immediately. “Your back was just healed two days ago—there’s no way you can—“

“I  _ can _ ,” Remus assured her. “Someone can carry my books if I can’t. And I have to talk to all my teachers and see what I’ve missed!”

“Oh, that reminds me,” the nurse said suddenly. “Those boys have been in here at least once a day, asking after you. I don’t know what happened, but they really seemed to want to talk to you…”

“I’ll find them later,” he promised. “Do you think I have time for lunch before class?”

“It’s about noon. Class won’t end for another half-hour,” she said grudgingly. “If you start walking now you might make it in time for the start.”

“But there’s that secret passage!” Remus said quickly. “We’ll go to the Tower, get our books, and then head to lunch. I’ll come back if it starts hurting, all right?”

* * *

Sirius sighed heavily.  _ Will he ever come back? _

Defense, usually his favorite subject, was dragging on and on Monday morning. As soon as the bell rang, he and his friends ran quickly to the Hospital Wing. “Is Remus back yet?” he asked the nurse, rather out of breath.

She smiled at him for the first time in weeks. “He arrived about half an hour ago. He’s probably down at lunch right now.”

Peter gasped, and James quickly yelled his thanks as the three of them ran through the secret passage across the hall. They entered the Great Hall quickly.

Their friend was indeed sitting at the nearest end of the Gryffindor table, being welcomed back by Greta’s friends. There were no empty seats nearby, though, so the boys had to settle with planning to talk to him later.

Their chance to talk to Remus did not come until that night in the common room. Sirius walked up to him at his sister’s table and said, “Hey, Remus…could we talk to you for a minute please?”

Remus looked up, rather startled. “Uh…I guess.”

Greta, Dorcas, and Amelia all looked like they wanted to object, but Remus stood before they could—leaning heavily on the table—and walked slowly over to their corner table with Sirius.  _ We should have sat closer, _ Sirius thought suddenly, looking worriedly at his friend. Glancing up, he saw James and Peter realize the same thing.  _ He shouldn’t be walking too much, should he? _

At last, they arrived, and Remus sat heavily in a chair. “Sorry, I can’t walk too well yet,” he said, looking calmly at the boys who supposedly hated him. “What do you need?”

Sirius felt an enormous stab of guilt at the boy’s kindness. Even after being denounced as their friend—even after nearly  _ dying _ because of them—he still talked to them like he would to anyone else.

_ We’re horrible people, _ the black-haired boy thought for the umpteenth time.  _ We don’t deserve Remus’ friendship! _

* * *

Remus looked around the table at his former friends, who all looked very nervous.  _ That’s odd. Even James? _

“I’ve been a complete arse,” James said finally, in a strangled voice. Remus was very surprised; he had expected Sirius to start. “And I know you probably won’t ever forgive me for—well—last week, but I want you to know I’m sorry, and I’d take it back if I could, and I’d do anything to make it better!”

This was the last thing Remus ever expected to hear from James. Sure, he knew the wolf nearly killed him because his friends had deserted him, but he had been expecting that for a long time.

“I don’t blame you, at all. Any of you,” he said honestly. “It’s over. I’m better. And now that the shock of losing friends is gone, it’ll never be that bad again. Don’t feel guilty. You don’t have to pretend to like me if you don’t.” He made to stand up, but Sirius gently pushed him back down.

“You’re missing the point of this conversation,” he said sternly. “Just listen a bit more. James’ been rehearsing this all week—you can’t let it all go to waste!”

James ignored the slight jibe and continued talking once Remus was settled in again. “I didn’t know that it was  _ my _ fault you were attacked and if I hadn’t been stupid or if I had been  _ bitten _ then you’d be fine—“

“I  _ am _ fine,” Remus insisted.  _ Not entirely true, but close enough. _ “I told you, don’t worry about me.”

“No, you’re not fine! You have to go through hell every month because of  _ me _ and my  _ stupidity _ —“

“That’s not true,” Remus interrupted. “I’m sure Dad would’ve written an article anyway. And I was the one who decided to go out that night.”

James seemed at a loss for words. “Don’t you hate me?” he asked in a broken, quiet voice.

Remus almost laughed. “Of course not! I knew since I started Hogwarts this would happen. Don’t worry about me. Just get on with your normal lives.”

“If a normal life is one without you as a friend, then I don’t want one,” Sirius said loudly, over James’ stuttered objection.

Remus turned to him slowly.  _ What the hell is going on? _ “You don’t want to be friends with someone like me. I’ll just slow you down. You’re better off without me.”

“I don’t know where you’re getting that from,” Sirius said, looking irritated. “If it weren’t for you, half our pranks would have blown up in our faces! And who would remind us to do our homework?” He shook his head. “I’ve always said you have no self-esteem. We’ll work on that with you, if you’ll let us.”

Remus did not know what to say.  _ Why would they decide out of the blue to stop hating me? That makes no sense. _

“I saw you,” James said suddenly, as if he had read his mind. “Last Sunday. I thought you were dead. There was blood everywhere and Madame Pomfrey couldn’t stop it…I thought for sure you’d—you’d—nobody deserves that, Remus!” His voice cracked. “I realized how wrong I was, and I’ve been trying to think all week how to make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to make anything up to me!” Remus sad immediately. “I told you I don’t blame you for anything. You need to stop worrying. I’m fine. I’m not angry. Just forget I exist, and your life will be back to how you want it to be!”

“But we don’t want to forget you,” Peter said quietly, speaking for the first time. “We want to be your friends again, if you’ll let us.”

Remus stared at him as he voiced what the other two were obviously trying so hard to say.

“You said you don’t blame us or hate us, right?” Sirius asked.

Remus shook his head quickly. “Of course not!”

“So if we’re willing to put up with your so-called uselessness, can we try the friendship thing over again?”

The young werewolf hesitated for a moment. “You’re sure it doesn’t bother you?” he said quietly. “I turn into a monster, just like all the books say. Just like what James saw.”

“That’s not _ you _ , though,” Peter said earnestly. “That’s just a—problem—that comes around once in a while and then goes away. And it won’t change from what we’ve done for a year, except you won’t have to lie to us.”

_ Peter never talks this much, _ Remus thought, surprised.  _ Does he really feel that strongly about it? _

“If you guys are okay with it,” he said finally.

“Of course we are,” Sirius ruffled his hair gently as James and Peter nodded their agreement. “You git.”


End file.
